A New Arrangement
by LimitedEditionG
Summary: After Hermione is accidentally apparated to a Death Eater gathering, she is cursed. In trying to save Hermione the lives of know-it-all gryffindor and the elusive Severus Snape will never be the same. HG/SS pairing, takes place 6th year. Dark, non-con, and angsty
1. Eavesdropping

**Hello again, I started this fic a while ago (some of you may remember it) but I had technical difficulties with FF and ended up taking it down. But alas, here I am again to see it through! This fic takes place 6th year, and I am planning it on keeping it as cannon as possible- or at least as cannon as can be in a HG/SS fic! This story will get dark at times, so be warned.**

 **Since I started this before, the next few chapters will be up very soon! Please leave reviews to let me know what you think! Enjoy!**

Hermione did not mean to eavesdrop, she really didn't. The same however, could not be said for the Weasley's, or Harry, who had taken extreme measures to hear what went on inside the kitchen at Grimmauld Place during a meeting of the Order of the Pheonix.

Girmmauld Place was old and covered in dust and teeming with people. Between the Weasleys, the Order, and a few others, Hermione had buried herself in an overstuffed chair in the corner of the dusty library. The latest meeting had been going on for a while, well over two hours, when she first overheard the voices.  
Hermione had picked up at random one of the dusty tomes that lined the walls of the library as prey for her next reading, and what she saw within its pages made her breath catch in her throat.

The pages of the book were not pages at all, but rather like a window. She could see the Order members crowded around the long, wooden table in the midst of a heated conversation. Hermione slammed the book closed sending clouds of dust up to her and squeezed her eyes, trying to recall anything she had read before that would explain this strange occurrence.

A Look Book! Hermione recalled with pride. The Look Book was the wizard equivalent of a two-way mirror, if she was correct, the sister book would appear as a regular book. From the perspective Hermione saw of the kitchen, the sister book must be sitting on the mantle. Guiltily, though not as much as she should be, Hermione listened closer and leaned in to the book.

The meeting was heated, for a while Hermione couldn't make out what the Order members were yelling at each other, each of their voices reaching higher and higher volumes and clamoring over each other's to be heard. She was appalled. The meeting looked closer to a rowdy classroom, certainly not the society that had taken on the extreme burden of defeating Voldemort.

Hermione continued to watch, equal parts intrigued and disgusted at herself and the Order. The chorus of voices continued until on deep, deadly voice made its first contribution to the chaotic choir. Hermione could hardly describe the abrupt change in atmosphere after she heard Professor Snape's low voice. If she thought the meeting was heated before, it was nothing compared to the cutting silence.

"The Death Eaters are growing bolder," Professor Snape spoke despite the smothering silence, "They do not care about discovery or exploiting their magic any longer. We cannot rely on the old rules now of propriety now. If we attack, we risk starting a war that we can't afford to fight."

"Listen to him," Sirius' voice barked out cruelly, "spoken like a death eater through and through."

"Sirius, perhaps Severus has a point," Lupin said, ever the mediator.

"Of course he has a point! He wants us to be sitting ducks for his accomplices on the other side," Moody growled.

Hermione watched as Moody paced the kitchen angrily while Professor Snape sat at the table. His pale fingers were clenched tightly together and his dark eyes were conspicuously calm. He was silent. The rest of the Order, strewn through out the kitchen, were conspicuously quiet as well at Moody's words.

"I trust Dumbledore, I would follow him to my grave, but the one mistake he has made is in trusting you," hissed the gravely voice of Mad-Eye Moody. Sirius gave a ruthless bark of a laugh and Hermione couldn't help the ice that settled in her stomach at Moody's harsh words.

Professor Snape was rude and vindictive, but he had proven time and time again his loyalty to the Order.  
 _Hadn't he?_

"It makes no difference to me whether or not you trust me. But if you foolish Gryffindors start a bloody war because you refuse to heed my words, then perhaps the mistake Dumbledore has made is in allowing the fate of the Wizarding World to rest in your hands," Snape's words were venomous and drawling.

The Order simultaneously drew in a gasp but Hermione held hers.

"If it were up to you, we would sit here and do nothing until the Death Eaters come 'round to finish us off, and probably under your guidance. If it were up to you we'd all be dead!" Sirius yelled, slamming his large hands down on the wooden table.

Sirius' face was a dark red and his chest heaved in anger. Snape had not moved.

"If I wanted you dead, you would be. Merlin knows how many opportunities there have been," Snape hissed, rising from his seat abruptly and leaning across the table toward Sirius.

Hermione watched the scene with wide eyes and a wild pulse. She could have sworn her heart beat so loud, she wouldn't have been surprised if they could hear it through the book.

"You've been picking us off one by one, attempting to is more like it. First Arthur, though you didn't get him, then Siruis," Moody growled crossing the room stand by Sirius at his full height, then let out a deep chuckle. It was full of malice and not at all pleasant to hear.

"You and your Death Eaters got James and Lily fifteen years ago, and we won't forget it. We'll attack you, and your kind, faster than you can say He Who Must Not Be Named if that's what we decide is best," Moody growled, his voice rising to a growl, "We'll fight for the boy, for James and Lily, and for all the others your Death Eaters got to. And even if we don't get them, we'll get _you_."

The kitchen of Grimmauld, once so heated, had become silent as a grave, even Sirius was silent at Moody's words.

Hermione watched as Snape's dark gaze bore down on Moody and Sirius with cold fury. Then he turned stiffly and exited the kitchen in a billow of robes and fury in the same brusque manner he did everything.

Hermione couldn't believe the cruelty in Moody's words, or that the rest of the Order had not spoken up in defense of Professor Snape. _Surely Dumbledore wouldn't let the Order do something to Professor Snape? He wouldn't put Professor Snape in if thought they would. Right?_

She barely had time to consider the scene she witnessed before the door of the library was thrown open. In a swirl of black robes, the intruder was none other than Professor Snape.

From Hermione's place in the corner of the darkened library, she watched as Professor Snape silently lit the fire place and began pacing in front of the flames muttering obscenities that made Hermione blush further. Hermione held her breath, praying silently that he would not notice her presence. Professor Snape continued to pace angrily, his figure casting long shadows across the room with his movements.

"If I were you, Miss Granger, I would leave now." Professor Snape hissed, not missing a step. Hermione's heart stilled in her chest then started back at a painful pace. Her breath was caught in her throat and her voice was no where to be found.

"As you are obviously unaware, the fault of a Look Book is that it works both ways. Those oblivious Gryffindors did not notice your mess of mane in the book, but I did."  
The malice and anger in his voice spread guilt through Hermione's veins.

She rose from her chair, clutching the book to her chest like a shield. Slowly, she made her way across the room all the while keeping her eyes on Professor Snape's pacing form.

As she neared, Hermione could hear the profanities that escaped from her Professor and he did not try to quiet them. She racked her brain desperately for something to say. Something to make him understand; she believed the Order to be in the wrong. They wouldn't hurt him, he wasn't like the other Death Eaters.

"Dumbledore trusts you," Hermione blurted as she passed the Professor. Her cheeks flushed hotly at her words but it was too late to take them back. Professor Snape stopped pacing. Hermione had the horrible feeling of watching a predator decide how to attack his prey. His back was turned to her and even in the flickering light of the library, she could see the tension and dangerous stillness in his figure.

"If Dumbledore trusts you then I do," Hermione couldn't stop the words from spilling out from her even if she wanted to, "It may not count for much, probably not anything at all, but I think they was wrong to say what they did. Sirius is a good man, but he's reckless and rash. And Moody. . . Well, he's Moody. But without you, the Order would be blind."

Hermione couldn't tell if her words were helping or only digger a deeper hole she would be forced to crawl out of. Professor Snape's form remained tense and still while she spoke and did not change when she finished.

Quietly, Hermione left tiptoed out of the library, scared to make even a whisper. As she closed the old wooden door, she took one last look at Professor Snape's rigid form. His muscles, once tense and tight, now sagged heavily under an invisible weight.

Severus Snape considered himself a realistic man. As a spy, it was imperative that he be keenly aware of his every thought, emotion and instinct in order to know what to show, and what to keep buried inside. The only way to survive his life of duality was to be honest with himself.

However, at the moment, honest was the last thing Severus wanted to be.

If he were honest, he would admit that Moody's words had cut him to the bone and Sirius' taunts crawled under his skin and deep down into the carefully buried pains he tried so hard to conceal. The years of servitude and sacrifice he had given Dumbledore, and the Order of the Phoenix, meant nothing in their eyes. To the Order, Severus would always be the weak and sniveling boy, joining the dark side and betraying his only friend

If he were honest, he would admit how much he yearned to change their minds about him. To prove to the Order, and to all, that he was all too aware of the mistakes he made and the consequences of his actions. That he was now a stronger man.

If Severus were honest with himself, he would admit that the Granger girl's soft words were a deep breath of air to a drowning man. They replayed in his head, a relentless refrain, as Severus stared at the flames. He had lost track of time since Granger left him alone in the library, but he guessed it had been hours.

Forcing himself to rise from his place before the fire, Snape exited the library and descended the creaking steps of Grimmauld Place. Halfway down, he felt the familiar burn and tingle of his Dark Mark. _Oh sodding hell_ , Severus thought, quickening his steps.

As he neared the bottom of the stairs, Severus heard footsteps nearing, but the ever-increasing burn of his forearm forced him to continue onward. He had almost reached the door when a soft voice behind him spoke.

"Professor? I was hoping we could talk about earlier, well I mean talk about what I said in the library. Its not that I didn't mean it, I did but-"

"Miss Granger, there is nothing to discuss," Severus hissed, forcing himself to ignore the burning that spread up his arm.

"Well, you see its just that-"

"Miss Granger! Now is not the time," Severus growled, spinning to face the door. He had to leave now. The increasing burn of his forearm spoke of anger and unrestrained emotion from the Dark Lord.

Severus threw open the door and reached the front steps of Grimmauld Place. He withdrew his wand and pressed his wand to the grotesque mark, focusing on its summoning to direct his apparating. When he had the direction, he apparated, not noticing the slender hand that had reached out to touch his arm at the moment of apparition until it was too late.

The added body made the apparition distorted and painful. He barely had time to take in his surroundings, they looked to be in a field, before he spun around to confront the uninvited intruder.

"Miss Granger! Do you have any idea the danger you have put yourself- the both of us - in?" Severus roared, Granger's wide brown eyes peered up at him. They were full of fear and confusion.

"I . . . I didn't mean to . . ." Granger stuttered out. Severus had no time to hide the foolish Gryffindor, for all around them the gleaming masks of the Death Eaters emerged from the darkness.

"Well, well, Severus. What have you brought me?" Behind Severus, a cold voice was carried in the wind. It was a voice that haunted his darkest thoughts, that sounded like his deepest regrets. The voice of the Dark Lord.

Severus magically brought forward his own mask and put it on with precise movements. The brown eyes of his student watched his movements. They were wide with fear, so much fear. They searched him for any sign that he could save them from whatever dark fate they were now destined for.

Severus turned to face the Dark Lord. There was nothing to do now but face him, and hope that whatever happened, he could find a way out of it.

 **Thank you so much for reading! Please Review to let me know what you think -the next few chapters will be up very soon!**


	2. Accidental Encounters

**A/N: Thank you so much for reading- and especially for the reviews! This chapter is pretty short, but I just wanted to get it out fast so that the next few chapters, the story can really pick up.  
**

 **Please review with any comments, questions or concerns (or if you just want to discuss how great _Snamione_ is) - they all mean so much! Enjoy.**

"What exactly is it that you have brought me, Severus?" spoke the Dark Lord. His voice was deceptively smooth.

Severus prided himself on his ability to think fast, analyzing a situation in mere seconds. In his life of duality, fast thinking and staying in control of the situation was the key to survival. However, in all his years of serving two masters, Severus Snape had never felt more confused or less in control than he did in the open field, surrounded by fellow Death Eaters with his all-too trusting student.

"My Lord, for some time I have been considering how best to get to Potter, and I believe I have found the key," Severus said, his voice low as he trusted his instincts would not fail him now. Severus hoped that the young Gryffindor would keep quiet long enough for him to talk her out of the mess she made, for the both of them.

" I see," The Dark Lord hissed as he circled the pair.

"She is, as you well know, close to the Potter boy. A direct source of information, not just on the boy, but on Dumbledore as well," Severus explained, forcing his voice to remain even and impassive.

He desperately willed his pulse to slow its beating.

"On Dumbledore? Is that not part of your duties?" The Dark Lord hissed quietly,"To gain the old fool's trust and report back to me?"

 _Fuck._

The Dark Lord circled ever-closer to the shaking Gryffindor. Severus looked her arms wrapped tightly around her middle, and her face bowed low toward the grass. _Bloody Gryffindors._

"Of course it is my duty, a duty I undertake whole-heartedly, My Lord. And trust me the old fool does indeed. However, he does not always reveal the full truth of his decisions to me, it is no great puzzle to figure them out of course, Gryffindors are terribly transparent," Severus spoke carefully, "This girl, however, may be able to provide information - a direct connection to the golden boy himself.

"May be able to provide information? My, my, Severus, I am disappointed. You brought this Mudblood here because she may be able to provide information?" The Dark Lord circled once more to stand in front of Severus. The Dark Lord's eyes bore down on Severus, bright with angry flames. Severus felt the suffocating pulse of dark magic that radiated in waves off of the Dark Lord's very being.

There were a few mirthless snickers that echoed through the circle of Death Eaters. Behind him, Severus could hear the weak sniffles of the Gryffindor. Snape bowed his head in a show of submission. All these years and this is how it ends, Severus thought bitterly.

As soon as the thought danced through his head, Severus felt the Dark Lord cross behind him to Granger. Severus could not see behind him, but he could hear the silky rustle of fabric as the Dark Lord circled the girl.

"You," the Dark Lord addressed the girl, "Mudblood, are an abomination to the Wizarding World. But shall we see if you have any knowledge of use just for fun?"

Severus heard a painful gasp behind him. From experience, Severus knew the Dark Lord was pillaging through her mind. He could almost feel the icy grip of The Dark Lord's legillemency even now.

The gasps continued until suddenly the body of the girl was thrown at his feet. She was limp and heavy, if it weren't for the short breaths, Severus would have assumed her to be dead.

Severus was no stranger to horror and atrocities. His years with the Death Eaters had taken away any semblance of innocence he may have at one point possessed. In all those years, Severus loathed to admit that he could only pinpoint a handful of times that he was truly afraid. Appalled, angered and regretful, yes, but truly afraid for his life, for the termination of his miserable existence, hardly ever.

Staring down at the limp body of his student, he suddenly felt the weight of each of those atrocities on his very soul. If she were to die tonight, if he could not save her, his guise of a career, and all the sacrifices he had made to atone for his mistakes, would mean nothing.

Surely if the Order, who would so willingly rid themselves of him, would spare no second thought in certainly ridding the world of his miserable presence themselves for the sake of the girl at his feet. The brightest witch of her age he had heard her referred to as many times in his years as her professor. And, though he loath to admit it, it was true.

Severus was struck down with the realization that neither side, the Order or the Death Eaters, saw him as anything else other than a weak, waste of a life.

"Indeed, Severus, it seems she did possess useful information," The Dark Lord circled to face Severus once more. Severus saw The Dark Lord's pale, thin feet crush down on the girl's fingers at his feet. An icy hand shot out and grabbed Severus' throat, forcing his face to raise up and meet the flaming eyes of the Dark Lord.

"That _Mudblood_ has decided to help you, to help you _carry your weight_ as she refers to it," The Dark Lord released his grip on Severus and reached down to turn the unconscious girl on to her back.

"I am a gracious Lord, and I will grant her wish, Severus. She will serve you in more ways than her little mind can imagine," As he spoke, the Dark Lord silently divested the girl of her clothes, revealing her pale skin to the circle. She made a small movement to cover her exposed skin, but her arms fell limply to her side.

"She will be yours, Severus, and what is yours is mine," The Dark Lord used his wand to carve a symbol into the white flesh of the girl's chest fluttering chest. The symbol looked to be an R, but the carving was deep and began to bleed so profusely that Severus could not make it out completely.

Severus watched the scene play out before him. He was stunned and struck down by confusion and fear. He heard low mutterings hiss of out the Dark Lord's mouth and felt the horrible chill and sting of the dark magic he conjured.

From the point on her chest that the Dark Lord was carving, Severus watched as something thick and dark poured from his wand and invaded the girls veins, spreading visibly through her pale skin in dark lines. It tinged the girl's skin a sickly color grey, and her chest continued to bleed, blanketing her torso in crimson blood. The girl's fingers twitched in the grass and her eyelids fluttered with the movement of the orbs beneath them. Small gasps escaped her parted lips, but the girl did not fully awaken.

After what felt like hours, of staring down in horror, the Dark Lord rose from his crouched position over the girl.

"Your hand, Severus," The Dark Lord hissed.

Severus obeyed. He lifted his right palm to the serpentine man, and watched from someplace deep inside his mind as The Dark Lord pressed the tip of his want to his palm. A swift, cold sting invaded his hand and spread through his body.

"Now, Severus, I have given meaning and purpose to her otherwise repugnant existence," The Dark Lord gave a small laugh, that was as terrible and unsettling as a laugh could be.

"Go and bring her back to the old fool, explain to him how wicked and monstrous I am. I expect you, the both of you, to return to me soon. I will want to be informed and updated in all they ways she is serving you, and all the information she may be able to provide me," The Dark Lord's voice carried in the wind as he circled around the gathering Death Eaters.

"Leave, Severus. And take that filth with you."

"Yes, My Lord."

As Snape gathered the limp form of the girl in his arms, he heard the simpers of the Death Eaters around him. Snape lifted the girl, and apprarated.

They landed just outside the front gates of Hogwarts and Severus wrapped his cloak around the naked, shaking form of his student, willing the contents of his stomach to stay where they were.

As Severus stared up at the castle, he pushed hard against the flood of emotions and thoughts that invaded his head. A lesser man would be a shivering, sniveling heap of a person, but Severus had trained himself to be one of the greatest Occlumens of his time. He fought back relentlessly against the emotions, and the thoughts, and the pain.

Severus silently opened the gates and as he began walking up the path to the castle, he sent a patrons ahead of him in warning.

The girl was light in his arms, and he could feel the warmth as her blood soaked through the front of his robes. Severus did not look down at the girl once, not stopping or slowing his pace until he reached the heavy wooden doors of the castle.

 **Thank you for reading - please let me know what you think!**


	3. Relligo Potentia

**Thank you so much for reading! Your reviews are such a fantastic motivation! I hope these chapters havent been too slow, but I'm trying to set up the groundwork for the bigger story! Let me know what you think - your reviews (good or bad) mean so much! Enjoy.**

Severus burst through the heavy wooden doors and upon reaching the entry hall of Hogwarts. Seeing the hall empty, he silently cast a second patronus to alert the Headmaster. At the sight of the prancing doe, so light and lovely, Severus felt a sharp stab in his mental walls, threatening to send them tumbling.

The girl in his arms was terrifyingly still in his arms. And the warm liquid down his front did little to comfort him.

Pushing forward, Severus made the journey to the Headmaster's office. He forced himself to sweep his mind blank on his journey. His pace was swift and mechanical, pausing only once at the foot of the great stone griffin to spit out the password.

"Chocolate mice."

Severus watched the stone steps twist and turn, bringing him and the girl, still limp in his arms, to Headmaster Dumbledore. The Headmaster sat at his large desk, his glittering blue eyes focused intently on a what looked to be a muggle magazine of knitting patterns.

"Severus, my boy, your presence certainly never fails to entertain, however it is unexpected," At his words, Dumbledore raised his gaze from the pages to the Potions Master. Severus watched as the light evaporated from Dumbledore's face. His face grew pale and tight. The lines that spilled across his skin, usually so full of laughter, now sagged, low and deep, with an invisible weight.

"Who is that?"

"Miss Granger." Severus answered stiffly.

"Hermione?" Dumbledore repeated in astonishment.

Severus gave a curt nod in affirmation.

"Was it Tom?"

Another curt nod from the Professor.

"Is she?—"

"She's alive." Severus hissed. He watched as the tension in the Headmaster's face eased almost imperceptibly.

"What happened?"

"She's a Gryffindor." Severus bit out as the Headmaster conjured up a cot before the professor.

"Severus." Dumbledore's tone was sharp and stinging and reprimanding. Severus lowered the girl onto the cot. He heard Dumbledore's sharp intake of breath at the sight of the girl's exposed and blood-soaked chest.

"We should bring her to Poppy," Severus spoke softly.

"Not yet," Dumbledore replied moving toward the girl, "Let me asses it first, I need to make sure this will not impede any plans."

 _Of course_ , Severus thought angrily, _The cause always comes first._

The Headmaster conjured a small basin of water and rags and set to cleaning Miss Granger's bloodied mess of a chest. It would be quicker to clean with magic, both wizards knew, but neither one seemed to want to reveal the truth of the situation too quickly.

The girl's skin was pale and still tinged a sickly grey. The bleeding had stopped, but the water and rags revealed The Dark Lord's deep and careful

In the pale skin of her chest, was a symbol. A symbol of dark and ancient magic.

Neither man spoke for a few seconds that felt like hours. They only stared.

"I need to see what happened, Severus," Dumbledore said. His voice was quiet and stern and tired.

Severus' dark eyes met the pair of blue eyes shining with something not easy to define. He brought forward his memories of the past few hours. Severus felt the tell-tale prodding and he knew that Dumbledore was using legilimency as he felt the the older wizard snaking his way through his memories. Only the memories Severus allowed the old man to see.

Dumbledore did not speak after he broke eye contact with the Potions Master. Leaving the girl on the cot, he circled the room intently reading the spines of the dusty tomes that lined the walls of his office. Severus watched as Dumbledore searched intently for something only he knew. Severus kept his eyes on the older wizard, not daring to spare even a glance down at the girl lying limp on the cot, to protect his carefully constructed walls.

At last, Dumbledore selected a small black book from one of the topmost shelves. Severus watched as he slowly crossed back to his desk, rifling through the pages of the small book. Severus desperately wanted to know precisely what dark magic the Dark Lord had inflicted upon his student, however, Severus was all too aware that the knowledge would come pure, unadulterated guilt.

Severus stood in front of Dumbledore's desk and looked down on the Headmaster with his head currently bowed over his book, reading from the book.

"This is very serious, Severus, very serious indeed." Dumbledore murmured.

Severus did not voice his assent. He wanted to curse the old fool. _Of course it was bloody serious._

"If her curse is indeed what I suspect it is, this will change everything."

"Everything?" Severus asked sharply.

"Well not everything, of course, but it certainly will change her. And perhaps her relationship with you."

"And what exactly do you suspect she is cursed with?"

Dumbledore did not answer Severus, instead he crossed the room, book in tow, to where Miss Granger lay, still unconscious. Severus walked, with steps that felt like wading through water, and crossed the room to stand beside her cot.

"It is as I feared, Severus," Dumbledore stared up a the Potions Master, looking older than his 100 plus years.

"What exactly is it?" Severus gritted out, not enjoying waiting.

"If I am correct, and I fear I am, Tom has put Miss Granger under the _Relligo Potentia_."

Severus was silent.

"I am familiar with it through study alone. It is a strong curse, very dark and very old."

"And what exactly are its effects?" Severus asked, his voice was raspy and his pulse had long since turned cold.

"I cannot say in full confidence. There is very little written on this particular curse," As he spoke, Dumbledore handed the small, black book to Severus.

Severus' gaze tore over the page until he found the portion on _Relligo Potentia_.

 **Relligo Potentia**  
 **A powerful curse used to place a wizard in the control of another wizard. Not to be mistaken for the Imperius Curse, the Relligo Potentia relinquishes control of the victim's magical powers to the wizard to which the victim is tied to. The extent to which the curse effects the victim is dependent on the potency of the casting of the curse and the bond between host and victim.**

As Severus read what little he could about the _Relligo Potentia_ , he could not help the wave of guilt that drowned his thoughts and bathed his skin in ice. This was her mistake, Severus thought desperately, she should not have followed me.

Severus did not believe his own thoughts, but he found it easier to push back the flood of emotions if he pushed back the truth. The years had taught Severus how keep his face blank, his stance tall, and his breaths even despite the torrent of emotions inside him.

"Is this all there is on the curse?" Severus asked, he could not bring himself to say the name of the curse out loud.

"I do not personally possess anymore information on it," Dumbledore spoke, his blue eyes were sad and staring at the unconscious girl, "I will do everything in my power to obtain more, I trust you will too."

For a while, neither Headmaster nor Potions Master spoke. Severus kept his gaze on the book in his hands while Dumbledore kept his gaze on the symbol in the girl's chest.

Finally, Severus spoke, "Will she live?"

"She will live, Severus. Her condition is stable, I suspect she's thoroughly exhausted. We will bring her to Poppy soon enough."

"Poppy? Poppy can't be trusted with her," Severus exclaimed, ignoring his earlier attempts to bring the girl to Poppy. It was different now.

"She has been trusted with far greater in the past. You of all people should know that," Dumbledore said, eyeing Severus pointedly.

"And the effects?" Severus bit out.

"We must wait until she wakes to understand fully the effects the curse will have on her. Have you noticed a change in your powers?"

 _Only a change in my guilt,_ Severus thought bitterly.

"No."

"I see. . . I suspect when she awakens. . . well, it has the potential to be quiet traumatic for the both of you."

"Traumatic?" Severus asked.

Before Dumbledore could answer, Severus turned and pulled a bottle of Firewhiskey out from Dumbledore's hidden stash. Downing a gulp, Severus poured another drink into a tumbler and crossed back to where the Headmaster sat beside Miss Granger's cot.

"Indeed, traumatic. We cannot be sure how the curse will manifest between the both of you. If in fact you have access to her powers, your magic will be hard to control, explosive. And Miss Granger. . . Well, Miss Granger will be weakened. But the transference of power is not the only problem, a curse this dark is meant to trap and weaken the victim. We have no way to be sure of the potency in which the curse was cast, therefore, we cannot predict the amount of power you an exert over Miss Granger."

When Dumbledore had finished speaking, Severus downed the rest of his drink in a single gulp, embracing the burn in his throat. Then, Severus threw the tumbler against the wall. Both he and Dumbledore watched the tumbler a silence so thick, it was choking, descended.

Severus lowered himself into a chair in front of the Headmaster's desk, pinching the bridge of his nose to ease the pain of the beginnings of a migraine.

"Discretion will be necessary. She is very close to Harry, it will be distracting for him to see her like this" Dumbledore murmured, almost to himself.

"WHO GIVES A FLYING FUCK ABOUT THE BOY?" Severus roared, rising from his seat, "She all but belongs to The Dark Lord now, and since she is a mud-blood, the moment he finds her to be of no use to him, she will die."

"Now, Severus, there is nothing to do until she wakes, and in the meantime, it is best not to jump to tragic conclusions. I'll bring her to Poppy now, I suspect she will be awake by morning, and we can get more answers then," Dumbledore silently cast a spell on the cot and it floated behind the older wizard as he led it to the Hospital Wing.

Severus allowed himself a glance at the girl, lying unconscious on the cot as she floated out of the room. Her hair was matted with sweat, and her skin was grey and still covered with dried blood in the places Dumbledore did not clean. As Severus stared at the girl, he couldn't stop her face from morphing before his eyes. Her hair, honey blonde and coiled, turned a blazing auburn that fell in waves over the sides of the stretcher, and her eyes, although they were closed, Severus knew had turned a piercing shade of green.

The sight twisted Severus' stomach and he felt the breath leave his body as ice took its place in his chest. The emotions that had threatened to overwhelm him all night knocked down his carefully constructed walls in one fell swoop. Severus gasped painfully as images flashed in his he so desperately wished he could erase from his mind. He saw green eyes, once full of smiles and laughter and radiating life. He saw those same green eyes, glassy and blank surrounded by skin that was pale. Too pale.

As the images rushed through his mind, Severus felt his knees give way and he sunk to the floor of the empty. Suddenly the blank eyes in his mind turned brown and Severus saw his student, writhing in agony at his feet because of her foolish attempt to be a hero. He wanted to yell at those eyes, to scream and curse at them, anything to make them understand that being heroic never paid off.

Severus did not know how long he spent hunched over on the floor, but eventually, he heard the Headmaster's voice through the floo. He couldn't recall what the Headmaster said, the words were lost to the sounds of painful screams ringing in Severus' ears, but Severus knew he had to rise.

It was time to stop his wallowing in weakness and push any emotion deep into his head where even he couldn't find them. Where they couldn't hurt him.

As Severus rose from the floor, straightened his robes, and fortified his walls, he was struck with a thought. It was a solitary thought that danced into his consciousness before he even had the chance to push it back. _I won't let her end up like Lily._

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	4. The Awakening

**Thank you all so much for reading and reviewing! This chapter's pretty long (you're welcome) so I hope you like it! Please let me know what you think or if you have any comments/questions! Enjoy!**

When Hermione was young, years before she would even learn about Hogwarts, she remembered her parents taking her to the park one summer day. There was a heatwave that left the metal climbing frames hot to the touch. Hermione can remember climbing one particular wall and the higher she climbed, the more the metal burned beneath her young hands. After a misplaced step, and a too-hot bar, Hermione slipped.

She can remember the panic and fear when she lost grip of the wall and felt the impact of the unforgiving ground beneath her spine. The air left her body in one painful rush and Hermione was left on the ground, gasping and writhing.

That feeling is the closest Hermione had to compare how it felt as she writhed beneath the Dark Lord's touch. At the memory of the Dark Lord, Hermione felt her heart jump in her chest and she struggled to open her eyes when her eyelids felt full of lead.

Suddenly, images flooded her brain from the last few hours she could recall. Hermione was not one to act without first thinking, but as she saw Professor Snape sweeping down the stairs, she couldn't help herself but reach out to him, and as the Dark Lord later ripped through her mind, she fought back the urge to reach out to him once again. But when she found herself at Professor Snape's feet, she could not find that same compassion or urge to act within his dark, burning eyes. Her memories beyond that are dark and drenched in pain.

Winning the battle against her heavy lids, Hermione forced her eyes to open and found herself looking up at a tiled ceiling, recognizing it as the ceiling of the Hospital Wing. _I'm at Hogwarts?_ Hermione thought dully. There were voices, low and murmuring, but Hermione could not distinguish their words.

"How nice to see you awake, Miss Granger. Miss Granger?" A deep, soothing voice drifted through Hermione's mind slowly. She blinked heavily and turned her head to the side. Her vision was blurred slightly, from sleep, she assumed, but she could make out a grey form at the foot of her bed.

Sitting up slowly to rest higher on the pillows, Hermione realized just how heavy and achy her body was. From far away, Hermione heard a painful moan and realized belatedly that it was hers.

"It is best if you don't move, Miss Granger, not for a while at least," A soft voice spoke as a pair of twinkling blue eyes moved in to view. Headmaster Dumbledore.

Hermione's mind, though dizzy and pain-idled, began to race with questions, as did her pulse.

Dumbledore, ever-perceptive, sensed her confusion and magically moved the old armchair he sat in closer to the head of her bed. Hermione's felt him take her hand in his larger one and saw the compassion that radiated from his eyes.

"Miss Granger, you have been through a very traumatic experience, tonight. It seems you were accidentally transported to a meeting of - "

"Death Eaters. I remember," Hermione said, her voice raspier and sharper than he intended. She lowered her gaze apologetically before the Headmaster but he just patted her hand understandingly, "What happened after that?"

After Hermione asked the question, she felt a fear settle in her chest and glanced down at her hand cupped in Dumbledore's. Half of her desperately wanted to know and understand what took place a the meeting and why she was in the Hospital Wing, and another part of her was terrified of the knowledge. Some deep and instinctual part of Hermione knew that once she was told the truth, her life would change.

Hermione lowered her gaze from hers and the Headmaster's hands, and for the first time noticed the bandages that covered her chest. They were thick and bound tightly, and Hermione's brows knitted in confusion as her free hand rose up to touch the edges of the bandages.

Raising her gaze to meet the Headmasters, her thirst for knowledge won out and she met his sympathetic gaze with a determined gaze of her own.

"It is not clear what happened, Miss Granger, we are still searching for answers," Dumbledore said softly.

"But surely you must know something? Professor Snape was there, he- "

"Now, now, Miss Granger. We are all looking for answers and we will get to the bottom of this, I promise. In the meantime, you need rest," Dumbledore spoke, and released her hand to silently conjure a vial of Dreamless Sleep.

Hermione felt her brows drawn together and her jaw was tense, but at the Headmaster's words, she realized the exhaustion that covered every inch of her body. The Headmaster carefully brought the vial to her lips and she sipped the potion, feeling it slip down her throat.

Almost instantly, her lids grew heavy again, even heavier than before. Hermione felt herself drift away, leaving the confusion and pain of the past 24 hours behind her.

Severus made his way swiftly to the Infirmary, leaving behind all remnants of his emotional outburst. The Headmaster had brought the girl to Poppy which meant that in the next few hours, he would inevitably be dealing with Minerva and her irrational protectiveness of her cubs.

 _I've had enough bloody Gryffindors for a lifetime_ , Severus thought testily.

As he walked, Severus felt some strange and unidentifiable feeling prickle across his skin. At first it covered his entire skin, but it sharpened and centralized until the sensation was localized to his chest.

What started as prickles, soon turned into sharp jabs that struck at Severus' chest. The pain grew until he slowed his steps, leaning against the stone wall for balance as his breaths turned into gasps and sweat broke out across his skin. Clutching at his chest, he felt the skin grow warm until for one painful flash, he felt something singed into the skin at his chest. The pain stopped as quickly as it grew. As Severus began to walk, he still felt his skin tingle with each of his steps.

He ducked into a bathroom on the main floor, silently locking the doors behind him incase a particular elderly Gryffindor came looking for him.

Severus ran the tap over his hands then brought the cool water to his face and neck. Wiping away the water and sweat, Severus could not shake the tingly feeling that lingered on his skin.

 _"Have you noticed a change in your powers? . . . I suspect it will be very traumatic for the both of you when she awakens."_

 _Damn it all_ , Severus thought, tearing open the collar of his shirt to reveal the pale skin of his chest.

Severus was familiar with the scars that marred his body, each of them earned in his years of spying, but when Severus looked at his chest, his heart began to race.

In the skin of his chest was a fresh and angry-looking red mark. It was an R enclosed in a circle. The same symbol the Dark Lord carved in the girl's chest. Severus stared at the mark for minutes, feeling his anger build. He struck out at the glass before him, shattering it beneath his knuckles, and repeated his actions with the other mirrors.

When Severus had finished, he stood breathing heavily in the middle of the bathroom and stared down at the broken shards of mirror. Resentfully, he silently cast a spell to clean up the mess he made and restore the mirrors to their former state. His knuckles were a bloody mess, but Severus did not bother to fix them, fastening his shirt front instead.

As he fixed the small buttons, Severus was bombarded with a flood of images from the night before. _Apparating to the meeting, The Dark Lord's legillemancy, the pain of the curse, darkness._

Severus was startled with the memories, not because of what they contained, he had replayed them in his head more times than he could count, but because they were not his memories.

As Severus stood still, struck by the images, he saw the ceiling of the Infirmary and heard Dumbledore's soft voice.

 _Just bloody brilliant_ , Severus swore, slamming his hand angrily down on the marble sink. A side effect of the curse, no doubt, Severus thought angrily as he watched the scene through another's eyes in the Hospital Wing play out in his head.

Severus mentally focused, drawing on his years of occluding to silence the scene of the young girl and Headmaster. He envisioned the murky lake that was his mind and dove below the surface searching for the piece that did not belong to him. Severus searched the dark waters desperately until he found what he was looking for.

He couldn't identify the object, each time he was sure of its form, it morphed until he was no longer sure. It made it tricky as hell to catch, but Severus did. He pushed the ever-changing form deep below the surface of the water until it no longer swam in his consciousness.

Opening his eyes, Severus felt the form flitting in the back of his consciousness. It felt like waking from a dream only to be unable to recall any details, and yet the memories of the dream teased and lingered at the edge of consciousness.

Severus forced it to stay back, knowing instinctually that if he acknowledged its presence, it would come swimming forward, opening the connection between him and Miss Granger yet again. _Never in my life have I wanted to be inside the head of a Gryffindor_ , _and I get stuck with the most insufferable of them all._

As soon as Severus thought his words, he quickly retracted his statement. It would be immeasurably more maddening if he were saddled with the thoughts of Weasley, or - god help him - _Longbottom_.

Severus quickly exited the bathroom, walking swiftly to the Hospital Wing. When he reached the Infirmary, Severus arrived just in time to see the Headmaster stopper a vial of Dreamless Sleep and leave a newly, unconscious Miss Granger to sleep.

The Headmaster met Severus' dark gaze as he walked from Miss Granger's bed and motioned Severus to follow him to the corridor. As Severus exited the room, Dumbledore closed the wooden doors to the Infirmary behind them.

"You were correct," Severus drawled.

"That is a situation I usually find myself in, however, which matter are you referring to?" Dumbledore asked, pulling a pack of sweets from the pocket of his robes.

Severus rolled his eyes and answered, "You were right about the consequences of her awakening."

"I see," Dumbledore eyes gleamed, "And what trauma took place?"

"See for yourself," Severus bit out.

Dumbledore used legilimancy to watch the recent discoveries Severus made, though Severus had edited a few parts, i.e. the breaking of the mirrors, out.

"I see," Dumbledore murmured softly after breaking mental contact with Severus.

Dumbledore began walking down the corridor and Severus followed.

"There is a way, a simple memory charm perhaps, that we will be able to fix this- ", Severus started.

"No, Severus," Dumbledore cut him off firmly, and then added more softly, "We are shaped and defined by our memories. To take this from her, well, that may prove more traumatizing that to leave her with it."

"More traumatizing?" Severus boomed, "How in seven hells would removing the memory of the curse be more traumatizing than not?"

"Because, Severus, removing the memory will not dull the side-effects. We still do not fully comprehend the gravity of the situation, and until we do, there is little to be done than to treat the side effects as they arise."

Neither spoke for a few steps.

"You should visit Poppy and have her examine your chest, if it is anything like Miss Granger's- "

"No."

Severus was silent. The only sounds that filled the corridor were the sounds of Dumbledore chewing his candy. The two wizards made their way to the Entry Hall and just as they were passing the great wooden doors, they were thrown open in a burst of power.

"WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON, ALBUS? WHERE IS SHE?" Boomed a very shrill and very Scottish voice.

Oh, bloody hell, Severus fumed, not now.

"Ah, Minerva, I suspected you would come, lemon drop?" Dumbledore asked lightly.

"No I do not want a bloody lemon drop! I want to see my student, where is she?" Professor McGonagall exclaimed shrilly. Severus couldn't stop one side of his mouth from twitching at the older woman's exclamations.

"She is currently sleeping, but I don't expect her to sleep long, you'll be able to see her soon," Dumbledore replied, placing another yellow candy in his mouth.

"Good," McGonagall huffed and turned to Severus, "In the meantime, I would like to know what the bloody hell you've done to her!"

McGonagall ended her sentence is a hiss and set on Severus a stare, so icy and scathing, that Severus imagined were he a student, he'd have lost control of his facilities. However, Severus was not one of her students to be intimidated.

"I'll have you know, thinly thing I did was save your cub from a most painful death that would have inevitably been the result of her foolish actions," Severus bit out. He had been repeating those exact words over and over in his head, determined to believe them.

"So help me, Severus, I'll make you wish for a most painful death if you speak to me like that again!" McGonagall yelled, her face flushed in anger.

Both Professors, stared each other down with gazes teeming with anger. Severus felt the tingle that haunted his skin earlier return tenfold in newly his agitated state. His body hummed and vibrated with anger as though the emotion had an energy or magic of its own.

The air around Severus had thickened so that it seemed to crackle and hiss. Dumbledore's perceptive eyes did not miss the change in the atmosphere.

"Severus, my boy, perhaps it would be best if you spoke to Poppy about Miss Granger's condition. No doubt, your two brilliant minds will find a way to easy any ailments Miss Granger might encounter. Minerva, you, no doubt, have questions-"

"I sure as hell have questions," McGonagall cut in.

"-if you would accompany me to my office, I would be glad to show you the events that ensued earlier tonight," Dumbledore said, his voice was light, but both Professors heard the command in his words.

Professor McGonagall let her icy gaze linger on Severus for a moment longer until she straightened her spine and her hat and made to follow Dumbledore.

Severus watched the two retreating figures while his skin suffocated under the blanket of the tingling sensation. It reminded him of the feeling he got in the morning after sleeping on his arm, the pricking and tingling sensation, but this was different. This sensation went beyond the physical, it went straight to his core, to the very essence of his magic. It was power.

The power filled him to the brim spilled out of every pore of his skin. Severus had never felt anything quite like it. The closest he could say would be the day he received the Dark Mark. The dark magic of the Mark had burned and singed his skin, then slowly it began to work its way into his veins and then deeper to his core.

At the time, Severus had been in awe and considered himself to be partaking in the very essence of the Dark Lord himself. Time had taught Severus that it was not the Dark Lord's magic, but a force more evil and old as time.

His newly found surge of dark powers was a thought Severus loathed to linger on. Of course, his traitorous mind supplied the thoughts for him as he remembered the words he read earlier, the Relligo Potentia relinquishes control of the victim's magical powers to the wizard to which the victim is tied to.

Severus realized he had been standing uselessly in the Entry Way for quite some time. He turned sharply on his heel and walked swiftly to the Hospital Wing. He kept his hands clenched into tight fists at his sides as he walked, his robes billowing behind him. The closer Severus got to the Infirmary, he could feel the muscles in his stomach twist in a sickening way.

She would be there. She would be sleeping and covered in bandages. She would wake up confused and angry and hurt. His student. The one who had so recklessly put herself, and him,in peril.

It could have been worse, a small voice inside Severus tried to reason. His mind was flooded with all the horrors and atrocities he had witnessed at the hand of the Dark Lord through the years and he decided that it could, in fact have been much worse.

 _There's so little known on Relligo Potentia, it could be just as bad_ , Severus thought. The tingling had long since left his skin and all Severus was left with were veins full of ice. Just as Severus reached the wooden doors of the Hospital Wing, his students word's drifted through his head on their own accord, _I trust you. Without you, the Order would be blind._

At the girls' remembered words, Severus sucked in a sharp breath. He felt a pain settle in his chest, burying itself between his ribs. She was too young and foolish and naive and trusting. She didn't know, or understand, that it was foolish to trust him. In his mind, Severus saw the girl as she had been hours ago, pale and bloody and gasping at his feet. That's what happens to those that trust me.

Severus placed his long, pale hands on the doors before him and leaned forward so that his forehead rested against the cool wood. His pulse raced pushing the ice throughout his body. Severus was tired. His very bones felt as though they were made of lead, they so were heavy and he felt as though he would collapse under their weight.

He closed his eyes, keeping his forehead resting on the door, and saw the dark, murky waters that was his mind. Severus delved beneath the surface, not too far, but just far enough. As he did so, the same shape that Severus had shoved down somewhere deep below the waters, floated up to him.

Now that he knew what the shape meant, it swirled in the waters around him, teasing and toying with his consciousness. When it drew near, Severus could feel the pulse and hum of the girl, her thoughts and emotions. Severus tried desperately to keep the shape from reaching him. He had no desire to feel the girl's anger or hatred for him.

M _erlin knows she couldn't hate me as much as I do,_ Severus thought with a bitter laugh. It wasn't the hatred or fury that Severus feared he would find in the girl's thoughts, but rather sympathy. Or worse, pity.

Severus had felt the sympathy in the gentle words the girl spoke to him in the library. He felt the sympathy radiate through her thoughts and cloud her judgement as she grabbed on to his arm before he could realize her mistake.

He was buried so deeply in the blanket of his thoughts that Severus didn't notice the simmering burn on his forearm. When he realized what he was feeling, Severus tore himself from his thoughts and his thrust himself back into reality. A similar feeling to dousing himself in ice water.

Severus abruptly stood at his full height and lowered his arms from the door. He walked back to the Entry Hall with mechanical motions, sending a patronus to the Headmaster to alert him of his summoning. Severus silently summoned his mask and the cool weight of it sat heavily in his palm.

He crossed the threshold of the front gates and pulled his mask into place. As he touched his wand to his burning forearm Severus couldn't help but imagine the small, but strong, hand that held on to him the last time he was summoned and to his deep shock, instead of fear or panic, he felt strengthened.

Hermione woke up slowly, forcing her eyes to stay open. Her mouth was dry and the taste of the potion still lingered on her tongue. Grogginess clouded her head as she sat up slowly on the bed, propping herself up on the pillows.

Her breath came in a short, controlled rhythm, but when she tried to pull in a deep breath, she felt the restriction of something around her chest. Dimly, Hermione remembered noticing the bandages on her chest before she went to sleep, and she looked down once more to see the thick white gauze that stretched across her chest under her hospital gown.

At the memories of the past night, Hermione felt a hot rush of emotion pool in her eyes and spill slowly down her cheeks. She was not in pain at the present, at least not compared to the pain she felt before, but her joints were sore and stiff as Hermione climbed down from her hospital bed.

Quietly, she made her way through the Infirmary to the girl's lavatory. Once inside, Hermione quickly and quietly dried her running nose and eyes, making a point to avoid the reflection in the mirror. Hermione hated crying. She hated how useless and weak she felt when she cried, and yet she couldn't stop her eyes from leaking. Until Hermione realized she hated crying almost as much as she hated not knowing something. With that thought, Hermione dried her eyes once more, determined not to have to do it again, although she kept a tissue in her fist just to be safe.

Exiting the bathroom, Hermione was not sure what her plan was, but she decided the first step to understanding exactly what happened, was to speak to the Headmaster. Slowly Hermione made her way to the Headmaster's office. Her body was heavy with sleep and aches, but she continued on.

 _If something were seriously wrong with me, I would at least be in pain, wouldn't I?_ Hermione thought, then remembered the bandages on her chest, _I probably just am a bit banged up from it._

 _What could Snape have told Voldemort that would have saved me?_ Hermione pondered and then stopped walking. With a rising panic, Hermione considered the fact that she hadn't seen Professor Snape since that night. Swallowing the lump in her throat, Hermione began walking again at a faster pace toward's the Headmaster's Office.

 _What if something happened to him? What if he was cursed, or worse,-_ Hermione's thoughts rushed in panic, _If something happened to him because of me_ \- She couldn't finish the thought.

Finally Hermione reached the stone griffin, her breaths came in painful gasps since she was unable to take a deep breath to steady herself. She realized too late that she did not know the password to get past.

Thankfully, Hermione heard the grinding noise of the stone stairs leading to the Headmaster's office open up. Hermione took as deep of a breath as she could, and then slowly ascended the stairs to Dumbledore's office.

Once she had reached the top, she was greeted by the golden flames of the large fireplace, and two pairs of blue eyes full of surprise and sympathy.

"Miss Granger? I daresay if Poppy knew you were out of bed, she'd have a fit. Lemon drop?" Dumbledore said, his tone was light, but his eyes were scrutinizing as they looked Hermione over.

Hermione watched silently as her Head of House rolled her eyes dramatically at Dumbledore's question, then rose from her seat in front of Dumbledore's desk. She fixed her gaze on Hermione, filling it with compassion and concern as she crossed the room to stand before Hermione. Professor McGonagall took hold of her upper arms, gripping a little too tightly, and Hermione stared up into her blue eyes, usually so fierce, now glazed with sadness.

"You're a Gryffindor, Hermione. Through and through," Professor McGonagall said, her voice was soft and passionate.

Hermione was unnerved by her Head of House's words, and felt more confused as ever. Her brows drew together and she winced as she unconsciously tried to take a calming breath, but was met with the constricting bandages.

"Thank you, Professor? But what happened?" Hermione asked, hating how small her voice sounded.

Professor McGonagall did not answer, but she eased her grip on Hermione's arms and led her to the overstuffed armchair before of the fire. Hermione sat down, slowly, feeling both pairs of eyes on her like a too-tight jacket.

"What's going on, Professor?" Hermione asked again, her voice stronger.

"Miss Granger, before we have this discussion, I would like to know how exactly you ended up with Professor Snape last night," Dumbledore asked. Hermione had not seen him draw closer to her, but he moved to sit in the chair across from Hermione while McGonagall perched on the edge of Hermione's chair.

Hermione blushed and quickly tried to think of a way to explain her actions.

"I saw Professor Snape leaving, and I just wanted to ask him a question about something I had read in a textbook. It was a bad idea, I know, but I was just trying to get an answer, and then he apparated and we ended up in a field. We were surrounded and then -" Hermione finally put an abrupt stop to the words that were pouring out of her. She did not want to admit to either of them that she had overheard the Order's meeting. _Or how the Order treats him_.

Dumbledore's blue eyes had not wavered from her since she began speaking, and they lingered on her now.

"Do you have your wand, Miss Granger?" Dumbledore asked quietly.

"I left it at Grimmauld Place," Hermione admitted.

The Headmaster nodded thoughtfully, then with a snap of his fingers, the older house elf, Kreacher appeared between them.

"You called, sir?" Kreacher asked, none too happily.

"Yes, if you will, fetch for me Miss Granger's wand?" Dumbledore asked the house elf.

With a crack, Kreacher was gone. Within seconds another crack rang out in the quite room and the house elf had reappeared, Hermione's wand in tow. Dumbledore took the wand from Kreacher, then quietly dismissed him.

"Miss Granger, if you would, please extinguish the fire. Use your magic," Dumbledore instructed.

Hermione was confused. Her brows were drawn tight and her heart and sped up to a sporadic beating. What in Merlin's name is this for? Hermione glanced up at Professor McGonagall who nodded down at her in a silent command.

Slowly Hermione lifted her wand and pointed it at the dancing flames. Her arm seemed to weigh more than it had before.

"Aguamenti," Hermione said.

A few drops fell from the tip of Hermione's wand like a leaking faucet. Confused, Hermione cast the spell again.

It produced less drops than it had the first time.

Hermione's heart had began to beat faster inside her tightly bound chest. Her breaths came in short gasps. She swung her confused gaze to the Headmaster, then up to her Professor. Both looked at her with gazes that were smothered in sympathy.

"What's wrong with it? Is my wand broken?" Hermione asked. Her voice was shrill and it sliced through the silence of the room. Against her will, her eyes once again filled with tears, but this time they spilled easily down her cheeks.

"Miss Granger, I would like you to read this." Dumbledore said as he passed Hermione a small, black book opened to page where he indicated her to read. She took it carefully, the words swimming and blurring in her watery eyes.

Hermione blinked hard once, twice, clearing away the tears. She kept them closed on the third blink. She knew that what she was about to read would change everything.

Steeling herself, she opened her eyes and scanned over the passage. When she had finished, she read it again. And again.

As many times as she read the words, she could not fit them together to make sense in her head.

"What does this have to do with my wand?" Hermione asked slowly. Dumbledore met her gaze compassionately. And then she understood.

Her breath left her body in a painful rush. Professor McGonagall's hand came rest on her shoulder, but she couldn't feel it.

 _My magic is gone?! My magic? No. No, I'm just tired, I need to sleep. Once I sleep, I'll be able to do it again._

"I won't argue with that, Miss Granger, you do need rest." Dumbledore spoke softly. Hermione hadn't realized she was speaking her thoughts out loud and some part of her told her to be embarrassed. But she wasn't.

"Miss Granger, we do not know how permanent this is. Once Severus-Professor Snape- is here, we will truly be able to understand the extent of the-" Dumbledore paused, "-the transference of energy."

"When will he be back?" Professor McGonagall asked for her, sharply.

"By morning, I suspect," Dumbledore answered.

Professor McGonagall moved so that her arm was wrapped around Hermione's shoulders, and Dumbledore took the wretched book from her shaking hands.

Hermione had never felt as pained and confused as she did in that armchair in the Headmaster's Office. As much as Hermione hated crying, it was the only thing she could do while she waited for the man who had stolen her magic.

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	5. What Needs to be Done

**Thank you all so much for reading and reviewing! Please, please continue to review - it means so much! Enjoy.**

"Severusss," The Dark Lord hissed asSeverus appeared before him.

"My Lord," Severus bowed. Deftly, he took in his surroundings, determining they were in a suburb. A muggle suburb.

What the hell are we doing here? Severus thought, immediately followed by his own horrid self-supplied answers.

"That Mudblood of yours, she will be good for you?" The Dark Lord asked, though Severus wasn't sure if it was a question or a statement.

"Indeed, I hope so." Severus answered carefully.

"I suspect, being a Gryffindor, that she is stubborn. Resilient. Not easily broken."

"Indeed."

"Well then," The Dark Lord's mouth twisted into something like a smile, "it is important that we make sure she is broken."

The Dark Lord walked, glided, down the lane, stopping at the house at the end of the street. The surealness was not lost on Severus.

"Welcome to the home of the Granger's, Severus," the Dark Lord spoke, though it sounded more like a hiss.

Some part of Severus turned cold at his words, but Severus smothered that part. Fear had no place in the face of duty, he thought.

"Make her yours. Entirely. Break her, Severus. Completely." The Dark Lord commanded. His eyes like flames pierced Severus.

The years had taught Severus how to stopper his thoughts and stomp out his feelings. Severus pushed all of them deep, deep down into his mind and forced his legs to march forward, silently casting a muffliato charm over himself.

He lingered, just for a second or two longer than necessary, before unlocking the door to the Granger home. It was all the time he needed to stifle the part of him that screamed and swore internally. To steel his nerves and his mind to do what needed to be done.

What needed to be done? Severus questioned, appalled at his own thoughts.

As he stood there, he once again felt like the weak, sniveling boy that had made this mess for him. Then he silently unlocked the door, and did what was asked of him.

Hermione cried until she lost track of time- until she lost consciousness. When she woke, she found herself once again staring at the ceiling of the Hospital Wing.

Something inside of Hermione was gone. Some small piece of her that was buried so deeply before that she hadn't even known it existed, had now been ripped from her. Now that it was gone, she felt that hole inside her more acutely than she had felt anything before.

 _No magic,_ Hermione thought, _who am I without magic?_

Turning onto her side, Hermione caught sight of her wand. She reached her hand out and grasped the wand tightly in her hand. The slim piece of wood that had once been an extension of herself was cold and lifeless in her hands. It felt no different than if she had picked up a fallen twig. There was no hum of pulse of magic that spread through her at the contact of the wand.

The lifelessness of the wand ripped wider the hole that had been punctured inside of Hermione. She felt her eyes burn with tears that would not come. She imagined there were no more tears inside of her to be shed.

 _I'll be asked to leave Hogwarts,_ Hermione's thoughts were spiraling into the dark vortex in the back of her mind, _I'll lose Harry and Ron. I won't be able to protect Harry from himself. Everything I've worked for will mean nothing. Did it even mean anything to begin with?_

Without realizing it, Hermione's breaths had began to come at faster and shorter intervals and her pulse raced at an almost painful speed.

Sitting up in her bed, Hermione gasped painfully as the short breaths tore through her body. The skin of her chest had began to simmer and then burn under its bandages until Hermione was sure her skin would burn straight through the wrappings.

She flew from her bed at breakneck speed, racing to the lavatory. Hermione made it to the toilet just in time for it to catch the emptying contents of Hermione's stomach. When she was finished, she rose on shaky legs from her place before the toilet and crossed to stand before the mirror.

For a second, Hermione did not recognize the girl in the mirror. The girl in the mirror was covered in sweaty, sickly pale skin. Her eyes were wide and scared, they were rimmed with dark shadows. In that second, Hermione felt sympathy for the girl in the mirror. She looked so young and desperately frantic. When Hermione realized it was in fact herself she stared at, the hole inside her grew that much larger.

The burning skin of her chest pulled her abruptly form her thoughts and drowned her in reality. With a determination that bordered on madness, Hermione rid herself of the bandages, only to lose another piece of herself to the void, at what lay beneath the bandages.

Carved into the pale skin of her chest was the letter R in a circle. The skin around the edges was tinged grey and peeled back, not scabbed over as her mind told her the flesh should have been.

She longed for nothing more than to turn back the clock until she was once again sitting in the dusty library at Grimmauld Place.

Except this time she wouldn't pick up the look book. She wouldn't speak to Snape. She wouldn't feel sorry for the man who would steal her magic.

All the pain and anger that hummed in every inch of Hermione changed directions until it was aimed at the dark Potions Master. _Maybe its good I don't have my magic,_ Hermione thought letting her mind wander through all the ways she would take out her anger on the Professor.

She didn't linger on the thoughts long, for Madame Pomfrey entered into the Girl's Lavatory.

"You are not supposed to be out of bed, young lady, if you needed to use the facilities, you were supposed to ring for me and- " Madame Pomfrey's words were cut short when she caught sight of Hermione's exposed chest.

An irrational wave of embarrassment washed over Hermione and she moved to replace the bandages over herself. Madame Pomfrey had crossed the room, stopping Hermione's hands as they fumbled with the bandages.

The vision of her older hands resting on Hermione's began to blur as tears welled up in Hermione's eyes that she had previously thought dried up. They ran down her cheeks in hot rivers, only adding to her embarrassment.

"Dearie, we do not know much about this curse. Not much at all," the Madame spoke in soft, comforting tones, "For all we know, tomorrow we will discover a treatment - a way to reverse it - and this will be nothing but a bad dream."

Hermione desperately wished to believe Madame Pomfrey's words, but they fell into the hole that Hermione had already lost so much of herself. The cool hands over hers gently replaced the bandages, using magic to fix the pieces Hermione had torn in her efforts to remove them. Then the hands wrapped themselves around Hermione's shoulders and led her to the bed she had occupied.

Once Hermione was in bed and tucked under the sheets, Hermione watched as Madame Pomfrey silently conjured a patronus. She watched as the glowing mist danced away and left the two of them in the Infirmary.

"I'll be back, soon. Let me fix you a concoction," Madame Pomfrey spoke, though to Hermione, the words sounded like they came from far away.

Alone again, Hermione wished for nothing more than sleep. I don't want to think anymore. I don''t want to be so angry.

Hermione heard footsteps in the hall grow louder as they approached and she turned just in time to see her Head of House walk through the doors to the Infirmary.

At the sight of the Head Mistress, Hermione couldn't help the flutter of hope that stirred in her stomach. She can fix it, she'll make it better.

"Miss Granger," Professor McGonagall addressed her, "you weren't supposed to be out of bed."

"Why?" Hermione asked, the word falling from her lips before she could stop it. Her Professor looked as surprised as Hermione at the appearance of the

"We don't know exactly what this curse entails, you need to rest until we have a better understanding."

"And when will that be?" Hermione asked, the question sounding harsher than she had meant it to. Professor McGonagall did not look taken aback at her tone, but rather her gaze softened.

"Hermione, we are working, trust me. I will not allow this to hinder the progress of one of the brightest pupils I have ever had the pleasure of teaching."

Any other time, Professor McGonagall's fierce words would have filled Hermione to the brim with pleasure, but now they fell flat. That did not escape the keen eye of the Headmistress.

"As you know, student confidentiality is of the utmost importance to Hogwarts," McGonagall said, her gaze bore down on Hermione, "That being said, I think you should see these."

Professor McGonagall pulled a thick file from her within her robes and passed it to Hermione's waiting hands. The file was plain, a single tab on the side giving any indication as to what it contained. It read _S. Snape._

Hermione couldn't help the anger that boiled in her stomach at just reading his name. The anger must have stained her face, because McGonagall rose from her seat at the end of Hermione's bed and moved to stand before her. Hermione felt her Professor's cool hands beneath her chin and feel them push until her gaze met the older woman's.

"Hermione, if could find a spell, or say the words that would heal you and save you from any pain, I would. But unfortunately I cannot." McGonagall's gaze was piercing and Hermione felt her throat thicken at the uncharacteristically heart-felt words from her Head of House, "But I do know you, Hermione, and I can give you two of your favorite things in hopes that it will bring comfort- reading material and knowledge."

Hermione couldn't help the edges of her mouth twisting up in a smile, despite her situation. She looked down at the thick folder in her hands, "Thank you, Professor."

Professor McGonagall nodded and straightened to her full height.

"You need rest, Hermione. You are more than welcome to stay here, or there is a place in my quarters for you."

"I'll stay here," Hermione said quietly. Already her eyelids felt heavier than they had minutes ago and she couldn't stifle the yawn that over took her.

"If you need anything, anything, Poppy and I are just a call away." McGonagall patted her hand twice in her gesture of affection and with a swirl of robes left Hermione to herself in the Hospital Wing.

The folder sat heavily in Hermione's lap and she couldn't tell if it was simply due to the content, or her heightened awareness of what information lay within its pages. For minutes, Hermione could do nothing but stare at the folder. Her head swirled with anger and confusion and pain simply reading the name on the tab.

Finally, Hermione steeled her head and her hands, forcing them to open the front cover.

 _September 1971 - Severus Tobias Snape_

The first page was the recorded information form the Snape's First Year physical examination. Hermione remembered her own first examination. They took place at the beginning and end of each school year, tracking the growth and development of each student. In some cases, there were extra examinations to be made. Harry and Ron and herself had usually undergone extra examinations.

Hermione's eyes skimmed over the page, not interested in the physical statistics of her professor at eleven, but her eyes stopped skimming as they read the footnote at the bottom of the page.

 _ ***Severus is under-developed for his age, slight malnourishment -possible anemia. Physical bruising on skin and rings under eyes coupled with health leads me to suspect abuse/neglect in domestic life. Refusal to discuss domestic life confirms suspicions- emotional and physical abuse.**_

 _Abuse?_ Hermione thought, though she couldn't comprehend, Professor Snape abused? Though she knew realistically that Professor Snape was not always the intimidating, heartless figure he was today, she still could not find herself able to picture the Professor possessing anything but his aloof, powerful demeanor at any age.

Hermione felt the coil of anger and hatred that had been aimed at Snape loosen, not much, only a incremental amount, but loosened just the same.

The knowledge that Professor Snape was anything other than the menacing figure she knew him to be today, sat heavily in Hermione's thoughts, and in her chest. Hermione couldn't help herself from picturing a slight eleven year old boy with dark hair, as helpless and small as she felt. With that thought, she closed her eyes and took a breath as deep as the bandages would allow, a shadow of something like comfort settling over her.

Severus landed with a hard thud outside the front gates of Hogwarts. His knees gave out pitifully and he emptied the meager contents of his stomach in the grass before him. His hands shook and his head pounded relentlessly.

He pushed back the memories of the last few hours as they fought desperately to invade his consciousness. The screams, the blood, the pain. Rising slowly to his feet, the sky had began to lighten with the rising sun as Severus made his way on legs that just barely supported him to the castle.

 _It is done,_ Severus thought desperately, _I've done all I could do._

 _Its not enough, it never is,_ a bitter portion of Severus' consciousness spit back at him.

Irrationally, Severus considered how easy it would be to flee. To turn back now on the spot and disappear to a life of anonymity. To never set foot in the castle again, and to never answer to the beck and call of his other master.

The idealistic thoughts did not last long. The object that had invaded his mind, the girl, swam through the lake of his consciousness unbidden by him, and pushed its way to the front of his mind. He felt the anger and the pain and the confusion cloud his thoughts until the secondary emotions threatened to overwhelm him.

In his mind, Severus saw flashes of curled hair and dark rimmed eyes, and then deep, painful carvings in pale skin. With a hiss, Severus watched helplessly as the pain and trauma inflicted on the girl was revealed to her.

 _Oh bloody hell,_ Severus thought, _couldn't she have stayed asleep?_

There was no way to run now. If it was only him, only his life on the line, he might have. But it was too late to run now, the girl, the foolish, stubborn, reckless girl, was now in danger, and only he could help her out of whatever mess she got them into.

The last place Severus wanted to be right now was the Headmaster's Office, and that was exactly where he needed to go.

The stench of the past few hours clung to him and bloomed into a headache in Severus's agitated mind. There was a faint humming that refused to cease at the edges of Severus' consciousness. _Merlin, does that girl ever stop thinking?_ Snape thought, cursing the shapeless form that flitted through the lake of his consciousness.

Stopping just short of the stone griffin, Severus took a deep breath as he silently conjured his patronus. The luminous doe flitted around him before bounding to alert the Headmaster of his presence, leaving Severus staring after it like a drowning man that just lost his lifejacket.

The stone stairs twisted, opening themselves to him. Severus pushed back as much as he could as he slowly ascended the stairs, preparing himself for an unpleasant conversation at best.

"Severus, I'm glad to see you've returned in one piece. Lemon drop?" The Headmaster greeted him as he made his way into the office.

"Oh Albus, enough with the bloody lemon drops. Nobody wants them," Professor McGonagall said, her voice angry and her cheeks flushed.

"As a matter of fact, I do, Albus," Severus strode to the Headmaster to take one of the obscenely yellow candies from his outstretched hand, reveling in the angry glare of his colleague.

"Miss Granger is fine, thank you for asking," McGonagall spat at Severus as he settled into the chair beside hers before the Headmaster's desk.

Severus shot her a stormy look as he forced his bones to remain upright and rigid in his seat.

"You have news, Severus?" Dumbledore asked, his voice serious.

"Indeed."

"Well?" Professor McGonagall cut in.

Severus did not answer the two questioning gazes that bore down on him. Instead, he raised his wand as he extracted a spare vial from within his robes. He conjured the memories of the past few hours and stuffed them into the vial, handing it delicately to the Headmaster.

Dumbledore took the vial, silently conjuring his pensieve. his blue eyes were fixed on Severus, and Severus was struck once again with the feeling that the Headmaster was already aware of what he would see in the memories.

Severus watched, barely breathing as the two Gryffindors viewed his memories. He knew what they were seeing. The Grangers, sitting in their comfortable home, while he crept up behind them. Their screams of surprise, and then of terror. The glow of the dark magic. The blood. The Dark Lord's gruesome smile at his completion of the task.

The constant hum of the girl's thoughts cut through the stifling silence of room as Severus watched them, and for the first time, Severus welcomed the hum. In some small way he felt less alone than he had before.

On the heel of that thought, a blanket of self-loathing enveloped him. _The girl is cursed, Merlin only knows to what extent, her family is gone, and you feel less lonely?_

The grey and white heads of hair rose from the pensieve to reveal to sets of ashen faces and grim blue eyes. For a second that stretched out like an hour, no one spoke. But the silence did not last.

"WHAT THE HELL HAVE YOU DONE?!" Professor McGonagall boomed, her voice shattering the silence.

Severus met her furious blue eyes with a level gaze of his own, this infuriated the witch even more.

"ALBUS! SOMETHING NEEDS TO BE DONE! THIS WILL NOT STAND!" McGongall continued, her face turning an alarming shade of crimson. Severus stowed away the image for future amusement.

Through the Professor's tirade, Severus met the Headmaster's gaze as it scrutinized him.

"Now if you would kindly show us what really happened, if you please?" Dumbledore asked, his quiet but firm words putting an end to the Head of Houses' rant.

Severus couldn't help the quirk of his lips as he extracted yet another memory from himself and played it in another, smaller vial. As he passed it to the Headmaster's waiting hands, he turned his dark gaze to McGongall's who watched the two men as though they had grown another head.

This time as Severus watched the two lower their heads to the pensieve and view his real memories

"Your skills at occlumency and legilimency are frighteningly good, Severus," Dumbledore said as he raised his head from the pensieve.

"What in Merlin's name is going on?" McGonagall asked with an added curse.

"Severus has crafted a memory, a horrific one at that, to decieve Tom." Dumbledore said in the same manner he would explain the four houses of Hogwarts to a first year.

"So the Grangers—?" McGonagall asked.

"Are alive."

"But Voldemort—?" McGonagall asked again.

"Is very much alive." Severus answered, shortly.

"I mean," McGongall corrected sharply, "Voldemort believes them to be dead?"

"Thus is the need for the fabricated memories." Severus replied, his voice deadly smooth. McGongall shot him another nasty look, which Severus matched.

"And where are the Grangers now, Severus?" Dumbledore asked, eating yet another lemon drop.

"My home in Spinner's End. It is safe for the time being, but a more permanent solution will need to be made."

"Indeed, I don't suppose your home is under the Fidelius Charm?"

Severus nodded his head in reply.

"You made the right choice, Severus." Dumbledore, gave Severus an approving nod. It did little to ease Severus' agitation.

"Well we can agree, Severus made a wise decision, but lets not forget our student who is under the effects of a curse we no next to nothing about." McGongall interrupted, her voice rising in pitch at each word.

"Indeed," Dumbledore agreed, though gave no more information regarding the girl or the curse.

Severus was once again reminded of the hum in his mind and was tempted to catch hold of if, to listen to the hum. And he did.

As Severus located the form in his mind, he pulled it closer and delved into its depths. Closing his eyes he saw words, though they were blurry, written in a neat script. With the blur, it was difficult to make out their content, but not for long.

 ** _September 1972_**  
 ** _Severus is clearly troubled. Neither nutrition nor physical abuse seemed to have ceased - bring to Headmaster's attention - so nutritional supplements will be prescribed. He is not close to other students, rather shy and standoffish, save for a seemingly close friendship with a Lily Evans (see her file for details)._**

When Severus was aware of what he was reading, what his student was reading, he felt anger flood him as he skin began to prickle and tingle once more.

He stood abruptly, his robes trembling with his movements and his hands clenching tightly until his knuckles grew white.

"Who's bloody idea was it to give her my file?" Severus hissed, his voice deadly smooth, betraying only a hint of the anger that boiled in him.

The Headmaster's white eyebrows rose in surprise so Severus turned his biting glare to the witch beside him. She bristled and straightened her spine under his venomous stare, meeting it with an indignant look of her own.

"After 15 years, student records become permanent. I did not give her anything she could not have accessed herself," McGonagall said defensively.

Severus did not linger to hear the Headmaster's reply. As he strode across the office and down the stone steps, Severus contained his anger until he let it expel in a swift burst of energy. The glass lanterns that lined the hallway around him shattered and fell to the ground in a shower of tinkling gas. The flames of the lights themselves grew taller and turned to a brilliant blue hue.

Shaking with the barely contained energy, Severus once again felt the a burning resonate on the skin of his chest. He knew that if he pulled aside the layers of clothes, he would find the mark of the dark magic embedded in his flesh.

Angry and determined, Severus swept through the halls of Hogwarts, not stopping or slowing his pace until he reached the doors to the Hospital Wing. It was only just outside of the doors that he stopped abruptly as he delved into the hum once more.

This time, the words were too blurry to read, and the girl did not bother wiping the tears from her eyes. Her thoughts swirled in his head, mingling with his own.

 _How had I never known,_ Severus heard the girl thinking, _all these years and I never even guessed? If I ever though Harry had it bad-_

No. That was it. Severus refused to be compared to the foolish boy hailed as "The Chosen One".

Sweeping through the wooden doors, Severus let his feet carry him to where he knew the girl lay behind the closed curtain. He refused to think, or to listen to his thoughts - or hers- as he pushed open the curtains that concealed her.

At the sight of the girl in her bed, Severus felt his anger leave his body in a heavy rush, leaving only a pile of hollow bones in its place.

Her usually untammable mane was matted and tangled and her skin was pale and dampened with a sheen of sweat. The bandages were wrapped tightly around her chest, so tightly Severus would have been surprised if the did not impede her breathing, but it was not her dirty hair or bandages that hollowed Severus. It was her eyes.

The same brown eyes that he had looked on for six years, once so full of determination and ferocity, though sometimes muddled with joy and pain, were as hollow looking and empty as Severus felt now. They glistened with tears that streaked down her cheeks, and the sight of them ashamedly gave Severus a small sense of comfort. For the tears meant that she was not in fact as empty as her eyes were, and that there was hope that her eyes might once again be overtaken with emotion.

Severus, usually unfailingly articulate and quick witted, was struck with the alien feeling of speechlessness. As he met her empty gaze with an equally guilty one of his own, he did not feel like her professor, her superior in anyway.

"Professor?" the girl spoke, her voice raspy and barely more than a whisper. Again, Severus took comfort in the fear in her voice for the emotion it promised.

"Miss Granger." He spoke, feeling utterly small, "you are no doubt aware of the consequences of you actions?"

At his words, Severus saw Hermione flinch, her hand raising to rest on her bandages, and he immediately regretted his words.

"The Dark Lord is unforgiving, had you not proven your usefulness, we more than likely would not be having this conversation," Severus watched as the girl lowered her eyes and her brows drew together. _Fucking hell,_ Severus cursed his attempts at comforting the girl.

"The Headmaster has spoke to you of the curse?" Severus asked, forcing his voice to remain even.

"We are still working to acquire a more thorough knowledge of what the curse entails," Severus said, feeling stupid and nervous like a first year. She did not speak or give any acknowledgement of his words, and Severus forced himself to remember the reason for visiting the girl in the first place.

Before he could extract his file from her possession, the girl spoke in a small voice, not raising her head to meet his gaze, "Will I be returning to Hogwarts this term?"

"I see no reason why you shouldn't. It no doubt is safer for you here," Severus answered, confusion knitting his brows together. At his answer the girl raised her head to meet his gaze. Her empty brown eyes were now spotted with confusion and pain, and worst of all, hope.

"Even without my magic?"

"Without your magic?" Severus asked in a hiss.

The girl's brows drew together and a faint blush rose to her cheeks. Her brown eyes narrowed on his. She was angry.

Severus rejoiced, anger was something he could deal with. Anything but her emptiness.

"My magic is gone." She bit out, her jaw clenched, " _You_ took it."

Severus felt his hollow bones fill with ice. The power, the tingling, the curse. All of it suddenly made horrifying sense to him. Her magic was the source of his newfound power.

"Ah, Miss Granger, now that you are awake, I believe there are some discussions to be had. Preferably over tea," Severus did not hear the Headmaster approach, but his words cut through the tense atmosphere of the Hospital Wing.

Severus stared down at his student, so fiercely intelligent and determined, and hated himself that much more for the future he had stolen from her.

In a daze of self-loathing, Severus followed mechanically behind the Headmaster and his student as they made the journey to the Headmaster's office. Once the four of them were seated before the fire, Dumbledore sent a house elf for a pot, and only after serving each person a cup, did he begin to speak.

"As both of you are well aware, the curse Tom placed on Hermione, on the both of you, is extremely powerful. Due to the nature of the curse, it is imperative that we find a way to combat the side-effects."

Severus was all-too aware of the tingling and pricking that danced on his skin as the girl's powers swam within him. She sat to his side, stiff with tension and something else as the Headmaster spoke.

"There may not be a solution to combat the entire curse, for it is one that will undoubtedly have lingering effect, but I am aware of a way to counteract some of the most destructive qualities of the curse. Namely, the transference of Miss Granger's powers to you," Dumbledore spoke, indicating both parties respectively. Severus caught McGonagall's gaze cloud over in sympathy at the Headmaster's words and settle on the girl beside him.

Severus could't help the small skip in his heart at the Headmaster's words. He knew he couldn't take back the events of the past few days, but if he could, he would spare the girl from this hellish fate.

"And what is that solution?" McGonagall asked for her student who seemed to be at a loss for words. Severus knew the answer.

Dumbledore hesitated before answering, giving both Severus and Hermione a long, measured filled with a jumble of emotions, "You bind yourselves to each other."

 **THank you so much for reading! Please REVIEW!**


	6. An Unpleasant Solution

**Sorry for the late update, I meant for this to come out a while ago but everything got so crazy! Thank you so much to everyone who follows this and everyone who reviews- it truly means so much! Review and let me know what you think about the update- Enjoy!**

"WHAT THE HELL?" Snape roared at the same time that McGonagall yelled, "HAVE YOU LOST YOUR MIND, ALBUS?"

Hermione sat stone still, glued to her chair under the weight of the Headmaster's words. Her mind reeled at Dumbledore's plan, and yet she didn't seem to process his words entirely. Her professors argued loudly, but their words seemed to come from far away to her.

"What exactly do you mean, bind us?" Hermione asked, seemingly unable to draw on any knowledge she had read over the years of a binding ceremony. If Hermione were in any other situation, she would have been bothered with her inability to recall information,.

The three voices fell silent at her quiet words and their gazes fell heavily on her. she couldn't read the mirage of emotions splayed on their faces and she didn't want to.

"Hermione, you need not worry about it," Professor McGonagall answered while Snape spat out, "It _won't_ happen."

"Sir?" Hermione asked, directing her question at the Headmaster. She could feel her two professors gazes on her, but she forced herself not to be bothered by it.

Dumbledore took a deep breath before he answered her.

"It is a very complicated ceremony. In short, it will bind your magic to your professor's magic to serve as one source between you two. It is irrevocable and irreversible."

"Will it give me my powers back?" Hermione asked, her voice almost unidentifiable small.

The silence in the room was suffocating.

"Currently, Severus is in possession of your powers. If the binding is successful, the both of you will draw from the same source of magic. With time and practice, your magic will be restored."

"How can magic be transferred in the first place? And how can it be bound? Will I have the same strength of power I had before? Will- " Hermione couldn't stop the questions from spilling from her any more than she could wish her powers back into existence. The cold distance she'd felt only seconds ago was replaced with a burning curiosity.

"Seems like someone's back to normal," Snape cut her line of questioning and was rewarded with a swift kick to the shins by McGonagall.

"She has a right to know the answers, Severus." Snape muttered something under his breath.

"Indeed," Dumbledore agreed, "To answer your first question, if I remember correctly, magic can be transferred through powerful measures - such as binding- but only extremely dark and powerful magic can remove a wizard's magic entirely."

Hermione noticed Snape's body tense and his head duck down out of the corner of her eye. She was struck down with anger once again as she was reminded that he was the man who had control of her powers. She felt a twinge in the skin of her chest at her rising anger as she realized she was staring outright at the Potions Master. In the midst of her anger, her mind supplied the words she had read in his file earlier. _Abuse, neglect, malnourished._

Without warning his dark gaze snapped up to meet hers. His dark eyes were stormy, but Hermione couldn't help but notice the flicker of surprise that danced in the dark orbs. Her chest twinned once more.

"As for your second question," Dumbledore began again and at the sound of his voice, both Hermione and her Professor quickly broke eye contact and turned their gazes to the Headmaster, "regarding the binding, I must first ask if you are familiar with the concept of the source of wizard's power?"

"I understand that a wizards' powers are based on four elements- earth, wind, air, fire. Each wizard naturally has a inclination toward one of the elements."

"Fantastic, Miss Granger. You two certainly are fortunate to have a student such as her," Dumbledore said with inappropriateglee addressing the two professors, "Indeed, each wizard has a natural affinity with an element. The Binding Ceremony is meant to link both parties powers to the same element and then bind them to each other, therefore creating a unified source of powers for both wizards. As for your last question, it cannot be known to what extent your powers will return. It is a very dark curse that has been cast to remove them, and even if you are successfully bound, there will no doubt be side-effects from the curse."

Hermione took a moment to process the information, then asked, "How exactly is the Binding Ceremony completed?"

"Fucking hell! There's no use in furthering this conversation because _there will be no ceremony!"_ Snape exploded at her side. He stood and stalked across the room and Hermione was reminded of the fateful night in the library at Grimmauld Place.

"For once, I agree with Severus," McGongall said, "I see no use in spending anymore time discussing Binding."

"I want to know," Hermione blurted out. Her cheeks flushed at the anger in her voice and the surprised gazes she was met with, "I've lost everything. Don't I at least have a right to know about a potential solution?"

Hermione's eyes blurred with tears and she ducked her head in embarrassment. She heard the rustle of movement then felt a warm arm across her shoulders as McGongall moved to her side and pulled Hermione closer to her in a rare gesture of comfort. As grateful as she was, Hermione wanted to throw off her Professor's arm and run. She wanted to burry herself in a book and forget all about the curse and the file and the Binding. But she couldn't.

"You are right, Miss Granger. You deserve the truth." Dumbledore said, his words emphasized by the sounds of shattering glass.

The three Gryffindors turned to the source of the sounds to Snape surrounded by fragments of a broken glass tumbler. His hands were clenched into tight fists but he said nothing. He gave no excuse or gesture of apology for the mess and no one asked.

"Presently, your powers have been transferred to Severus' possession, although that you are aware of. We cannot be sure yet of any other effects the curse has had other than what is already demonstrated. The Binding Ceremony will in theory restore your powers, but it is a very. . . invasive ceremony."

Hermione did not overlook Dumbledore's carefully selected words and she felt McGongall stiffen at her side.

"Invasive?" Hermione asked quietly.

"Bloody hell, Albus, stop this!" Snape hissed across the room, but Dumbledore gave no indication he heard.

"Yes, invasive. The Binding Ceremony consists of three parts to bind both parties magically, mentally and physically. However, each of these parts are complicated and progressively violating. They are meant to leave no room for distance or separation of any kind between the two parties."

The atmosphere in the room was tense and stifling. Obviously, her three elders knew more about the Ceremony than she did and were not sharing. Hermione grew frustrated as she turned her gaze to each of them, a gesture not reciprocated.

"And what exactly does each part entail?" Hermione asked, none too nicely, "I will do anything, _anything_ , Headmaster to have my powers back."

"You won't be so willing when you know what you're in for," Snape hissed, pacing across the room.

"Well then _tell me_ exactly what it is I'm in for," Hermione bit back.

"Hermione, dear, there may be ways to reverse the curse. We do not need to resort to drastic measures at the start," McGonagall said softly to her, but her words only served to anger Hermione more. The skin on her chest prickled and tingled with a slowly rising burn.

Will somebody tell me what the hell this sodding Ceremony entails?" Hermione burst out. She looked to the Headmaster, and she noticed that he looked older and more worn that she could recall seeing him.

"As I said, the Ceremony is meant to bind wizards magically, mentally, and physically. The first step is a magical impression on the flesh of both wizards put there by the other. This can be very painful. The next step is the imprinting of each other on consciousness - this is done by legillimancy. The final step binds the flesh and the sources of magic together in an act of. . . consummation."

Dumbledore gave Hermione a weighted look at the last of his words and Hermione felt the truth settle like ice in her stomach and a warmth flush her cheeks. _He doesn't mean sex? Surely not! What the sodding hell sort of ceremony forces wizards to have sex?_

"I think I need to lie down," Hermione whispered.

"Perhaps that's for the best," Dumbledore responded with a nod.

"I'll take you to the infirmary." McGongall said, keeping her arm tight around Hermione as they stood.

"Can I go to my room in the tower?" Hermione asked, her voice raspy and quiet. McGonagall debated the question then gave a single nod of consent.

As they moved through the Headmaster's office, Hermione couldn't help casting a glance at the dark, stiff figure on the other side. Snape's head was bowed and his back was tensed under the same weight Hermione had convinced herself to ease days ago when she first noticed it at Grimmauld Place.

Before she realized it, McGongall and Hermione had flooed it to the Gryffindor tower. McGonagall gave the password, but caught Hermione's arm before she could make her way inside the tower.

"Hermione," McGonagall spoke turning Hermione to face her, "You have shown more bravery these past few days that would make Godric himself look like a first year. And I have no doubt that you will continue to demonstrate that bravery."

When McGonagall released Hermione, she made her way slowly through the Common Room and to her bed on heavy legs. Hermione collapsed in a heap onto her bed, pulling one of the pillows to her side tightly and began weep. She cried until her eyes stung and her chest ached with her sporadic breaths. She cried until she felt shriveled and empty, having no more tears to spare.

In the midst of her tears, her mind formed a plan. _If I can just get away from here, even just for an hour or two. I could go to the Burrow and visit Harry and Ron. I'll be back before anyone knows I'm gone._ She had read enough books and lessons on apparition, and in usual Gryffindor fashion, she decided to try it.

Hermione's feet moved before her mind caught up, carrying her out of the tower, through the staircases and out the front doors of the castle before she could give the motions a second thought. As she crossed the school grounds, she brought forth any knowledge she had attained regarding apparating and splinching.

With determined resolve she mustered all the power and strength she could, and she apparated.

"Severus, if Hermione agrees to the Binding, I need to know you are willing." Dumbledore spoke. His voice was firm and his eyes were unforgiving.

"You are asking me to relinquish full control of my powers and fuck one of my students?" Severus roared. His skin sizzled with fury and the air around him turned electric.

While Dumbledore explained the details of the Binding to the girl, it had taken every ounce of Severus' control not to forcibly silence the Headmaster - perhaps permanately - and drag the girl from the Office. He was ashamed to admit that he had listened in to his student's thoughts more than once while she remained in the Office. Snape witnessed her desperation and frustration, and then her shock and despair firsthand.

"I only ask that you do what needs to be done." Dumbledore responded, the ice in his voice unfitting for a man who so willingly played the part of a bumbling fool.

Severus did not reply but continued pacing.

"She is very close to Harry, without her support his focus and dedication to his task will be diminished. He -"

"I should have known this was about the boy," Severus spat out, "If it does not concern _the boy_ then it does not concern you."

"That is not true, Severus. I am simply keeping the good of the cause at the forefront."

" _The good of the cause?_ Tell me, how does hopping into bed with a student benefit _the good of the cause_."

Severus took the Headmaster's silence as an admission of guilt. Without looking back, he swept from the room in a flurry of billowing robes and anger.

 _We are nothing more than pawns. He has no concern for the girl, or what she has been through. . ._

Severus stopped short at the direction his thoughts had taken. When the hell did he begin to worry about _what she's been through._ Severus knew possibly better than anybody about dealing with dire circumstances at a young age and the loss of childhood. When he began walking again, he gave in to the temptation to listen to the girl's thoughts once more.

He saw her curled up in a pitiful ball on her bed, weeping. Her thoughts were jumbled up and swirling, but he could make out a few.

 _I was only trying to help . . . Will they kick me out of Hogwarts? . . . Can I do it if it means getting my powers back? . . . What will I do if it doesn't work?_

Severus exited the office without another word and silently marched to the dungeons, making his way to his office. Once inside, he quickly downed a gulp, and then another, from his bottle of Firewhiskey. He collapsed into his chair, closed his eyes and let his mind process the events of the past few days.

He had always done what needed to be done. He rarely asked questions or thought of his own well-being. For years, Severus had served two masters and witnessed atrocities he could not speak of. And yet the situation he found himself in was more terrifying and more disturbing than any he could recall.

Miss Granger's intelligence had never escaped Severus' notice, although it had never been a subject of his praise. It couldn't have been. Had Severus ever publicly praised, or even acknowledged, the brilliance of his student, he would be showing a weakness, a crack in his painstakingly crafted armor. For if any of the Slytherins spawns of his fellow Death Eaters spoke of his approval of a Gryffindor, much less a muggle-born, there would be hell to pay. But Severus had noticed her intelligence. And, though he loathed to admit it, he recognized something in her that he found in himself - an unquenchable thirst for knowledge and an agonizing urge to prove herself. Through Severus had learned to keep his ambitions disguised many years ago, Miss Granger had not. She openly sought to prove her place intellectually and magically. And she did.

As Severus reflected on the girl and the similarities, his mind supplied his deeply suppressed thoughts from just months ago on their own accord. Before he could beat them back, Severus was reminded of his infamous attempts at teaching _The Chosen One_ occlumency. Though they were despairingly unsuccessful, Severus was left with an unnerving realization through his lessons with Harry.

While scouring through the boys mind with no resistance, Severus was met with memory upon memory of the youngest Weasley boy and Miss Granger. As he watched the memories grow and morph into the almost adults they were now, Severus was struck with a strange fondness for the side of Miss Granger he had not seen in class. Potter was as reckless and arrogant as his father was, and though it all Miss Granger remained an ever-devoted friend and companion. Many a memory Severus witnessed made him yearn for that same companionship. Not _her_ companionship, but one similar .

 _Sentimentality and intimacy has no place in the life of a spy,_ Severus inwardly berated sooner had the thought crossed his mind than the door to his office was thrown open.

"And you reprimand my entrance etiquette?" Severus drawled knowing all too well who would burst into his office so forcefully.

"I'm not in the mood for your games, Severus. Where is she?" McGonagall snapped.

"Am I supposed to know who you are referring to? I don't have the energy to read your mind, Minerva."

"Hermione! Hermione's who I'm referring to, Severus. WHERE IS SHE?" McGonagall ended with a roar.

"Why the hell should I know? Did you not escort her to her tower?" Severus replied, though his body had stiffened in alarm.

"Of course I did, you dunderhead! When I went back to check on her, she wasn't there."

"Does the Headmaster know?"

"Do you think I would have come to you first? Of course he knows. He told me you would be able to locate her using whatever new _enhancements_ you got from the bloody curse," McGonagall spat out. Her face was flushed in anger, and Severus grimaced at her reference to the curse.

Rising from his seat, he drew into his mind to locate the part of her consciousness that resided inside his head.

"Bloody fucking hell," Severus swore as he swiftly exited the room. McGonagall called out to him as she trailed behind but he did not answer. He followed the girl's consciousness to where it lead him. As he passed through the wooden front doors of the school, he fought to keep his mind alert and focused.

"Will she live?" Severus asked Headmaster Dumbledore, hating how raspy his voice sounded.

Snape and McGonagall had found the girl at the edge of the Forbidden Forrest. She was bleeding profusely from what they could only infer to be splinching from a botched attempt at Apparating. _The impulsive chit._

"Yes, she will live." Dumbledore answered. Severus, ever-perceptive, noticed the Headmaster's strange tone.

"Spit it out, Albus." Severus bit out, his voice now sounding anything but small.

Dumbledore's blue eyes raised to meet the sable eyes of the Potions Master. He searched the dark orbs carefully, then spoke.

"I cannot say how much longer she will live if she is without her powers, magical ailments wreak havoc on non-magical bodies."

Severus felt ice replace the blood in his veins. He couldn't tell if it was from the Headmaster's words, or from the specific type of hell that would be inflicted on the girl that laid in a bloody mess between the two down at Miss Granger, Severus felt his mind make the decision before he could form the words.

"I'll do it." Severus said, his deep voice was low. Most people would not have heard the pain in his voice, but Dumbledore had known the man too long not to notice.

Severus raised his eyes to meet the Headmasters. They were stormy and resolved. The older man nodded once, then lowered his blue eyes. Severus lowered his once more to the body between them, bloodied and small as he prepared himself to do what needed to be done.

 _Oh Lily,_ Severus thought with the same reverence of a prayer, _give me strength._

 **Please review and let me know what you think!**


	7. A New Arrangement

**A/N: Hey! Thank you all SO much for reading and for all your reviews! Sorry this update took a while, but the holidays and exams always get away from me. The next chapter should be out by next week, so you won't have to wait too long. Please leave a review to let me know what you think - they mean so much to me!**

 **Enjoy.**

"You apparated?" Snape burst out.

Hermione had woken once again in the Hospital Wing. Her skin was tender and stung in the same way it did had when she got a terrible sun burn two years ago while vacation with her parents. Professor Snape and Dumbledore had been hovering beside her bed, stoney-faced and wary when Hermione had woken, as though she had walked in on an important conversation. When she fully regained consciousness, neither man had hesitated to begin questioning her.

Dumbledore was calm and patient in his queries, but of course the Potions Master wasn't.

"No! I tried to, but it didn't work —" Hermione replied defensively.

"Of course it didn't work, foolish girl. You need magic to apprarate," Snape hissed back.

"I know that!" Hermione was shocked at the fury in his gaze. She knew she had been reckless and thoughtless, but she couldn't understand his level of anger at her actions.

"Continue, Miss Granger," Dumbledore said, placidly.

"After it failed I was upset so I just started walking. The fresh air did help, honestly. As I walked — well I thought I saw something, just at the edge of the Forbidden Forrest—" Hermione continued.

"Let me guess, you saw a baby chipmunk you wanted to nurse it back to health." Snape hissed.

"No." Hermione bit out, then more softly she added, "I. . . I thought I saw my parents."

There was a collective intake of breath throughout the room.

"Your parents?" Dumbledore asked quietly.

"Yes, well no, well. . . I don't know. I mean I saw them, only it wasn't them. The closer I got, the farther they seemed to be. And when I finally got close, they weren't real at all. I'm not sure what they were. They were really just pictures, but they're edges were blurry and they began to fade. I only remember something cold coming over me, and then I don't remember anything else." Hermione hadn't meant to say all that she did, but it was too late to take it back.

"You do not remember seeing any other forms? Anything else that might explain what happened to you?

Hermione thought hard. Nausea came over her in a wave at the memories, but nothing revealed itself.

The pain on her face and the well of silent tears was answer enough to the two professors.

The room was silent and still. Hermione tried not to let her mind linger on the memories of her parents or the cold or the pain, but to no avail.

"Severus, if I might have a word with Miss Granger? Alone."

Hermione watched as Snape's body tensed and his eyes flared in anger. She was sure he would explode and refuse to heed the Headmaster's orders, but to her surprise he turned sharply and left in a billow of robes and anger.

"Miss Granger, the events of the past few days have been atrocious. It is deeply unfortunate that you have been forced to endure them, and it saddens me even more that I must ask you to continue to face down horrors."

Dumbledore's words were soft and his eyes were kind. Something pricked and tingled in the back of her mind. It was an unsettling feeling, as though she was being tricked.

"Sir, what will happen without my magic?"

"That is precisely what I wish to discuss, Miss Granger. You see, I must ask you to fight for your magical powers, to determine yourself to repossess them. At any cost."

An understanding of Dumbledore's words washed over Hermione and settled like angry flies in her stomach.

"You wish me to take part in the Binding Ceremony?" Hermione's voice was breathless, chocked.

Dumbledore did not reply to her question, but the sympathetic look he gave her said it all.

Hermione felt her body sink heavier into her bed. The hole that developed inside her earlier seemed to open it hungry mouth once more.

"You of all people should understand the precarious position that Severus Snape is in. He walks a very thin line between light and dark. One could say he serves two masters," Dumbledore said, and at the sound of Snape's name Hermione fought back rising hatred once more. "And you of all people should know, Miss Granger, where Severus' true loyalty lies."

Hermione barely nodded, her chest flaring in pain.

"The darkness is rising, Miss Granger, and I daresay that in the coming year it will rise to heights that seem incomprehensible to us now," Dumbledore's voice was stern but his face was lined. Did he always look this old? "It will be important to Tom that he feels he has secured Severus' loyalty once and for all."

Hermione felt her stomach twist itself into knots at the _Tom_ Dumbledore referred to. The name was too human, to pure. Not at all fitting of the monster she'd encountered.

"Pardon me, sir, but what does my magic have to do with Professor Snape's loyalty?" Hermione wanted nothing more than a straight answer. Dumbledore gave her a long measuring look that seemed to age him before her very eyes.

"This coming year will test Severus. For the good of our world, Severus will be forced to abandon his farce of servitude. He will need to secure his place in Tom Riddle's ranks," Hermione did not understand how Snape would have to prove his loyalty as a Death Eater for the good of the cause, but she listened carefully to the Headmaster's words. She felt as though she had been granted access to some great secret.

"I must ask too much of you, Miss Granger, though I hope you will be willing to take on the challenge."

"I'll do it." As soon as the words were out, Hermione felt something, something that had lived inside her for so long, leave her.

"It is my hope, and my remorseful request, that you help to secure and fight to defend Severus' place in the light. The coming year will bring many trials, and when it is all said and done, I believe Severus should be allowed a chance at a normal life. A happy life."

"And how exactly am I to do that, sir?"

"I ask you to Bind yourself to Severus and for the two of you to work to strengthen that Bond. You must understand that he will be greatly tested, and that his loyalty must be believed to lay in the dark. However, if all goes well, after Tom is dead, it will be your duty to convince the Wizarding World that Severus Snape is truly a part of the light . . . whatever that may entail."

The sound of the doors to the Infirmary crashing open cleaned the look of secrecy off Dumbledore's face. Both Hermione and Dumbledore turned sharply to the source of the sound.

Snape had thrown open the doors and was hurtling toward them in a ripple of dark robes.

"I thought I asked to speak to Miss Granger alone, Severus."

"This is fucking ridiculous, Albus. We need to spend our time searching for alternate courses of action, not wasting our time trying to tame the whims of a sixteen year old girl to a cause beyond her means." Snape spat out.

"Severus!" Dumbledore admonished him and Hermione felt angry heat flush her cheeks.

"If I decide to do this, it won't be because you bullied me into it," Hermione said. At the look of shock that flitted through her professor's dark eyes, Hermione realized the weight of her own words. She dropped her head to look down at her hands folded in her lap, but not before glancing at the Headmaster and noticing his smirk.

"If I want my magic back, I must be Bound?" Hermione asked, and Dumbledore nodded, "And I will use that Binding to convince the Wizarding World, in whatever way possible, of his innocence?"

"There's no question of my innocence, Miss Granger, only my loyalty." Snape hissed, the ice in his voice sending chills down her spine," _Gryffindors_ , they're never as brave as they claim to be, especially if it doesn't serve them".

"Severus." Dumbledore admonished firmly once again, then turned to Hermione, "This is an immense decision."

Hermione was silent while considering the proposition. She couldn't help but picturing the small, scrawny eleven year old boy from the files. He was so helpless and desperate to prove himself- a feeling Hermione understood all too well. _Merlin only knows how many mistakes he's made, but he's truly on our side now._

 _Right?_

"How long do I have to decide?"

A shadow came over both Dumbledore and Snape's face. "Without magic, these wounds will take days to heal, and beyond that— I would expect you have about five days before more _serious_ side effects of your missing powers will begin to appear."

Hermione didn't want to know what those side effects were. She stared down at her hands, caked in dirt, and at the bandages wrapped around her chest and middle. Each breath sent flares of pain down her center, but Hermione barely felt them.

"I'll do it," Hermione repeated much less confidently than she had before.

Both Professor and Headmaster set scrutinizing gazes on her.

"Are you certain, Miss Granger?" Dumbledore asked quietly. Hermione looked up into his compassionate blue eyes, and then turned to her Professor. His head was hung low, his dark hair covering his face.

"Yes, I'll do it." Hermione took a deep breath, ignoring the pain. "Can I have a few days, just to regroup?"

Dumbledore's blue eyes twinkled with sadness and sympathy, it was overwhelming. "Of course Miss Granger, the Binding Ceremony takes some time to prepare."

Hermione nodded. Snape still had yet to raise his head, to give any indication of his reaction at her decision. Though, perhaps that was a reaction in an of itself for the brooding Potions Master.

Hermione heard the rustle and shuffling as both Headmaster and Professor left, but she forgot their parting words as soon as they were spoken. The hole inside her had grown, so large she wasn't sure that her magic wouldn't just slide right out of her when she gained it back.

The Hospital Wing was silent and still. Hermione didn't remember going to sleep.

Dumbledore decided the Binding Ceremony would not take place until after dinner on Saturday.

It was Wednesday.

Hermione was dismissed from the Infirmary, after thorough inspection from Madame Pomfrey, and wasted no time in retreating to her Tower. She was lost in thought as she climbed the stairs to her room, wincing at the lingering pain in her side and chest. Hermione did not notice she was not alone in the room until it was too late.

She saw the streak of movement before she felt a weight settle on her chest, hard and firm and painful with her injuries. Hermione let out a shriek and tripped over the foot of her bed while trying to escape the embrace of her attacker. She landed, sprawled on her back with her eyes closed bracing herself for another attack, when she felt something slick and firm on her face. Opening her eyes and fighting back a gasp of pain, she was met with an unamused gaze from a pair of yellow eyes.

"Crookshanks!" She cried, too loudly. Hermione pulled her pet tighter to her and buried her nose in his ginger fur.

"How did you get here?" Hermione asked, half expecting an answer. Her cat had always demonstrated an unnatural knowingness and keenness for magic. As surprised as she was for seeing him here, she wasn't. _McGonagall must have brought him, surely she's gone to my parents and gave them some sort of explanation._

At the first thought of her parents, Hermione couldn't stop the tumble of memories that followed in its wake. _Summer vacations exploring new places together, her mum cooking breakfast while her dad worked in the garden, Christmas mornings in their matching pajamas. The pair standing at the edge of the forrest. The cold —_

The thought of her family put a sharp pain in Hermione's chest, that was not from the curse, and her throat tightened. _I won't cry. I won't cry. I won't cry._ Hermione repeated like a prayer, _It's only a few months until Christmas break, I'll see them them._

Hermione could barely stave off the storm clouds of fear and hesitation as she considered the Ceremony and all it entailed. Dumbledore had yet to fully explain the process, only that it was invasive in more ways than one. Ways that Hermione had yet to experience. Her face flushed as she considered the intimacy that would be required between her and her professor.

The Potions Master had always held a certain prominent role in her thoughts. He was the one professor who didn't appreciate her natural abilities and desperate pursuit of knowledge as her others did, in fact, he openly sneered at her attempts to please him or win his approval. But it only made it try harder. At some point, her feelings toward the Potions professor, while never fond, grew into a respect. He'd risked his lives, countless times, for his students -for them- and lived a quite, although resentful, existence devoted to one of the most subtle forms of magic. His wild moods, cutting remarks and seemingly impossible approval made him all the more interesting to Hermione.

But as she considered the thought of what was soon to be required of them, HErmione's chest grew tight and throbbed dully. How could she ever climb into bed with her professor? Of course, she would do it if it means retrieving her magic, but it went against everything she stood for. Everything she valued- the integrity of knowledge above all else.

Trying her best to stave off anymore thoughts, Hermione climbed onto her bed with Crookshanks. She wanted desperately to read, she'd even read about Quidditch if it meant relieving her mind of the painful loop of memory and loss and pain it played again and again.

Instead, she held her familiar more tightly to her and stared out the Tower's window until sleep claimed her

"She is a liability," Severus hissed out at the Headmaster who sat calmly at his desk. The Binding Ceremony was to take place in three days and Severus' anger and nerves were rising with each passing moment.

"She has proven her strength time and time again, I have no doubt she can be trusted." Dumbledore replied, firmly but quietly.

"I'm not doubting her strength," Severus spit out, "I'm doubting the fact that a sixteen year old student will be forced into a position of deception and duality."

"Seventeen," Dumbledore corrected, then at the look of angry confusion on the younger man's face, Dumbledore explained, "From her extended use of a time-turner, Miss Granger is seventeen now. Eighteen in September."

Severus swore under his breath.

"This will not be the first time someone so young has been forced to walk the line between light and dark," Dumbledore spoke softly, "And I have no doubt that under your guidance, she will walk with the same nimbleness that you do. Her encounter in the forrest is troubling though, it will take some looking into. "

Severus only scowled harder, but Dumbledore, having known the man for so long, could read the anxiety - and possibly fear - in the lines of the Potions Master's face.

"We must have hope, Severus. This is the best option for the both of you."

"The best option?" Severus roared, his anger coming to a peak, "How do you suppose _the best option_ for her is being Bound to a man who will betray the Wizarding World? Or have you forgotten, _Oh wise one,_ of your escapades with horcruxes and what you require of me? I will be killed before this war ends."

"We don't know—"

"We do, Albus! We both know I won't live through this war. If _he_ doesn't get me than your bloody Gryffindor's will," Severus replied, looking both exhausted and infuriated.

"That is why the Binding is the best option," Dumbledore spoke softly, "Because the girl is your chance to _live._ If Harry is successful, it will be because of the skill and knowledge of Granger and her word will not be doubted by a wizard anywhere. She will provide you with an opportunity at the life you should have lived, the life you would have had if it wasn't stolen from you."

Severus strode to the window and stared out across the grounds, tinted by the setting sun.

"It wasn't stolen," Severus said, his voice stiff and low, "I sold it."

Dumbledore was silent and the weight of it settled over Severus, smothering and chocking. "She knows what is being asked of her, the same as you did."

"The Dark Lord will expect her to be of use to him. She will need to contribute information, about the boy."

"She will need to learn occlumency, I've no doubt you've already considered that, but you can teach her to reveal only what Tom wants to see. It should give you two time to work together, to grow the Bond."

Severus pushed back a shudder. "And how will it effect my magic, the Bond?"

"Only time will tell. As of now, your magic is unsteady, too much to be controlled. After the ceremony, the two of you will need to work out and adjust to the requirements of the Bond. It will be invasive, the mental connection alone will be enough of a change, but this ceremony is old, not much is written on it. Perhaps it will be that you two both draw your magic from one source, however, it could mean that the source, however plentiful, will be tethered to only you, Severus, and she must draw her powers from that. Until the Ceremony is complete, we can only guess the effects."

"And the other…changes. How often must the ties of the Bond be renewed?" Severus' question was barely more than a whisper. He turned in time to see the Headmaster's gaze flicker and dim.

"Not much is recorded, but depending on how frequently, and to what magnitude, Hermione uses her power will determine the frequency of the renewals. During the school year, some weeks may require more of her power, and depending on whether or not she has natural occluding abilities, any extra lessons she takes, I would expect her powers to drain every 3 weeks. But that could change as well."

"And what of the girl's parents, do we tell her the truth?"

Dumbledore sighed, long and warily. "Not until she can hid it. When the time comes, show her first the altered memories."

Severus's hands were shaking. The power thrummed and roared in his veins until he was sure he would burn from the inside out. The magnifying glass beside him exploded, the pieces spiraling down onto the floor, then collecting once more together.

Severus didn't respond, didn't give any parting as he quickly strode from the Headmaster's office. By the time he reached the dungeons, he turned into an abandoned classroom, not daring to go anywhere near his supply stores in his present state.

The wooden desks rattled and shifted around as Severus's excess of power trickled from him. The part of his mind that no longer belonged to him, the shape swimming around the surface of it, was silent. Not the silence of the night before when the girl had been found bleeding, but the stoic, breathless silence of sleep.

Good. Severus wasn't sure that he could handle hearing the girl's thoughts right now. Not if he wanted to retain any semblance of sanity. The power rushed from him as quickly as it came leaving him hollow and bare. He felt as though his bones were made of iron, each movement to carry him out of the classroom was slow and painful. The walk to his quarters was excruciating.

His quarters were dim, the fireplace containing only embers now that did little to warm or illuminate the room. Muscle memory had Severus casting a charm and the fire flared to life as he stumbled and dragged himself into his chair before the flames. His bedroom was only a stairwell away, but even that was too far.

Severus considered firewhiskey, the accompanying burn that would fill him up and melt away the ice that gnawed at him from within. Severus considered sleeping potion, the strongest he had, to carry him far away, if only for an hour or two. In the end, Severus settled for his own self-induced numbness.

All his life he had been hated, in one fashion or another, and it never bothered him. His father, his peers, his professors. Hatred had become the one exchange that he was accustomed to. But the hatred in the girl's eyes when she'd awoken, when she'd discovered the truth of her curse, it was pure and unyielding. It cut him down and left him bare.

How could he ever expect to see anything but hatred in them? For all she knew, he'd stolen her magic, all but enslaved her to him, robbed her of any chance at a future free of pain and lies, and she didn't even know that he was meant to have killed her parents.

For all his years spent in hatred, Severus had always considered that there would be an end, even if it was through death. But what if there never was. What if, worse of all, he lived through the war? He lived and was forced to endure the knowledge that he had forever robbed another - someone with unlimited potential and opportunities he would have sacrificed anything for - of their freedom.

The same way he had sold his.

No. If there was one thing he did right in his miserable existence, he would make this right. He would find a way, even if he had to sell it all again, Severus would find a way to free the girl from him and regain her independence, her life.

Yes. He would do it. And then he would die, once and for all, and gain his own freedom at last.

When Hermione woke once more, her room was dark and chilled. She shuffled atop her covers, wincing at the pain of her movements. The candle beside her bed flickered to life, then the fireplace as well.

Hermione started, but as the sight of her Head of House came into view, she calmed once more. McGonagall's hair was messy and in a loose plait down her back and she wore a thick robe and sleeping clothes. "I didn't mean to wake you, I only wanted to check on you."

"You didn't wake me." Hermione's voice cracked. She took the glass of water McGonagall summoned, and as she gulped it down, she tried not to think about how even the magic of the castle no longer responded to her.

Professor McGonagall moved to sit on the foot of Hermione's tall bed as she began to draw back the covers and slide beneath. "Dumbledore told me of your decision."

Hermione didn't meet her Professor's gaze. She didn't want to see the sympathy and sadness that she knew would lay within. "I need my magic back. I don't know what I'll do without it."

Firm fingers grasped Hermione's chin and drew her face up to meet McGonagall's stern gaze. There was no trace of sadness. "You can do anything you want, Granger. Your mind isn't great because of your magic, it is a gift in and of itself. If you chose to walk away, I have no doubt that you would do just as much greatness in the muggle world, perhaps more."

Hermione's eyes filled with hot, unbidden tears. "Hogwarts is my home. It's everything I've ever wished for. I can't walk away, no matter what."

Professor McGonagall nodded. "You know what the Ceremony requires, not just of you know, but the repeated sacrifice it requires?"

Hermione nodded, blinking back more tears.

"Have you ever—- have you and— did your mom ever— " McGonagall stuttered, uncharacteristically fluttered. "Damn it all, are you a virgin, Hermione?"

Hermione flushed, her tears forgotten. Slowly she nodded.

While there had been opportunities in the past, Hermione had never considered sex to be an important enough concern to warrant further exploration. And though she wasn't completely inexperienced, she had yet to go all the way.

"I am sure you know the basics, but you need to know Hermione that though the Ceremony and the Bond may require such activities of you, you are not without control. Severus can be horrid and frustrating and entirely deserving of a botched transfiguration spell at times, but he _is_ a good man. And I expect him to treat you with the respect and dignity you deserve. I want you to know that if there is anything, I mean _anything_ , you ever need to discuss or need to ask, never hesitate to do so."

The tears were back. Hermione's throat was tight and her chest ached, but the ferocity of her professor's gaze was grounding and steadying. She took a deep breath, deeper than she had in days.

"Thank you."

McGonagall pulled Hermione close, hugging her tightly to her solid frame. As Hermione wrapped her arms around her professor and was hugged tightly, she let herself cry. It was fierce and desperate, tears of pain and rage and sorrow, but McGonagall held her through it all.

Hermione barely remembered how through her haze of tears and exhaustion, but McGonagall had tucked her in beneath her heavy quilts and left the candle flickering beside her bed. As Crookshanks curled up beside Hermione, McGongall slipped through the room, mumurming a quiet "Watch her for me" to the cat before closing the door behind her.

 **Thank you so much for reading! Please review and let me know what you think!**


	8. The Binding Ceremony

**A/N: Hey everybody! Thank you all so much for reading and leaving reviews - they mean so much and are the best motivation for writing! This is a big chapter, and the next one should be out in a few days (for real this time), so please let me know what you think! Enjoy.**

Hermione made her way from her tower to the Headmaster's Office on heavy feet. Her pulse was racing and her palms were slick with nerves, yet despite that Hermione felt oddly detached. As though it wasn't really her that was making the walk to seal her fate.

The past few days flew by more quickly than Hermione could bare, between meals, burying herself in books, and falling into a sniveling mess, there had been a lot to occupy her time. But unfortunately, not enough to slow time. Today, she would be bound to Professor Snape.

The Headmaster's words swam through her head at each step she took but they were distant and had as much effect on her as reading snippets of a book with no context. _I hope you will be willing to take on the challenge. . . to determine to repossess your powers- at all costs. . . it will be your duty to convince the Wizarding World that Severus Snape is truly a part of the light._ When she finally reached the stone Gryffin, she was so lost in thought she could hardly remember the journey. The Gryffin granted her access automatically. _They must be waiting for me._

When Hermione reached the landing of Dumbledore's Office, she was met with the concerned stares from Dumbledore and Professor McGonagall. She did not see Snape at first and some part of her mind was relieved, until she noticed his dark form silhouetted in the window. His back was tense and stiff beneath the heavy fabrics of the robes. For as much as Hermione wanted to hate him, and she felt she had reason too, she couldn't muster enough emotions to do so.

"Good Evening, Miss Granger," Dumbledore greeted.

"Oh, Albus. This isn't a bloody social visit," The dark form of her Professor hissed, making no move from his stance in the window.

"Indeed," Dumbledore agreed, his voice low and soft but firm, "Perhaps it is better if we get started."

Hermione's heart lurched at his words and she had to force her stomach not to expel itself. She caught the gaze of her Head of House and was reminded of the older woman's earlier words. Steeling herself, Hermione took a deep breath.

"If you would both face each other," Dumbledore said in instruction. It was only the abrupt movement of Snape tearing himself from his station at the window that Hermione realized Dumbledore meant her too. Hermione walked slowly to stand beside Snape who had moved in front of the Headmaster's desk.

"Minerva, if you please," Dumbledore instructed, and the younger woman crossed behind Hermione and began muttering an incantation under her breath that Hermione strained to hear.

Soon, Hermione felt a warm tingle fall over her skin, almost like rain. She sucked in a breath of surprise as she quickly found herself absorbed in the feel of the magic. The hole that had formed inside her earlier suddenly felt filled once more and she felt complete. Out of the corner of her eye, Hermione noticed Snape's body relax ever so slightly. _He feels it too_ , she thought and thought she couldn't say why she felt a smile spill across her lips.

From the edges of her vision, Hermione saw a blue, shimmering light expand to fill the air and wrap itself around herself and Snape. The light was warm and formed a bubble around the two.

"Mmmmm," Dumbledore murmured, his voice sounded far away, but Hermione couldn't tell if he was speaking quietly or if it was the bubble of magic blocking the sound, "You both have an affinity for water. This is very good, it will make the Binding stronger."

The mention of the Binding did not scare Hermione now, the pleasantness of the magic seemed to have gone to her head.

"The first step of the Ceremony is to imprint on each other mentally. Severus, I'm sure you know how this works," Dumbledore urged him on.

Snape turned to face Hermione, and when she made no move to face him, he grabbed on to her arms to turn her to him. The rush of warmth that filled her at the contact of his arm made her gasp and her eyes went wide with shock. _It must be the magic,_ Hermione thought as she noticed the same look of surprise in his eyes.

As she stared into the dark gaze of her Professor, she suddenly felt something pushing its way into her mind in a wholly indescribable way. It was the same pressure she had felt that fateful night with the Dark Lord, though this was much more gentle. She knew it had to be legillimancy and that their locked gazes was the source of the sensation.

The pressure tumbled through her head bringing forward a mirage of memories, some pleasant, some she would rather have kept locked far away. The images swirled by dizzyingly fast.

Hermione began to push back at the force in her head and attempted to close her eyes but they did not obey.

 _Don't fight it,_ whispered the pressure in a voice wholly unmistakeable. It was the low, smooth drawl of Snape.

Trying her best to obey, Hermione let the pressure continue as it rifled through her mind. Finally, she felt it retreating, though there was an unmistakable piece that was left behind and sat like a weight at the back of her mind

When it was done, she dropped her gaze quickly from Snape's and was surprised to find them blurred and heavy with tears.

 _Your turn_ , Snape spoke and it only took seconds before Hermione realized that his voice had not actually come from his mouth, but from the weight in the back of her mind. Hermione shot her gaze up to his in surprise and alarm. His mouth was set in a knowing grimace and his dark eyes were focused on her teary gaze.

"What do I do?" Hermione squeaked out.

"In your years of over-achievment, have you ever attempted legillimancy?" At Snape's question, Hermione instantly remembered her botched attempts at helping Harry learn occlumency last year. She had attempted to use legillimancy on him and was left with nausea and a nasty migraine for hours after.

 _Anyone would be nauseous after occupying that boy's head._ Snape said in her mind, and Hermione saw Snape's lip quirked in a small smirk and realized with horror that he now bore witness to her thoughts because of whatever process they had just undergone. Hermione flushed with embarrassment.

"You must be prepared and focused. Be clear and decisive with your intent." Snape verbally instructed her in the same instructional tone she had heard for years. Despite the bizarreness of the situation, it seemed to ease the both of them to fall in to the roles they knew so well, "You are lucky I am a skilled occlumens, I will only let you where it is necessary for you to go. It will be quick and precise,"

"How will I do it without magic?" Hermione asked quietly.

"This is our magic," Snape snapped in annoyance indicating the bubble around them. Hermione's eyes lit up in excitement and then in determination.

 _Clear intent and focus, Granger_ , Snape said in her mind, _You can do this._

Sucking in a deep breath, Hermione turned her gaze once more to her Professor's. She lowly but firmly said the incantation, and then felt herself tumbling down the dark tunnels of his mind.

The sensation was dizzying and not too pleasant, but the first the Hermione noticed in the darkness was that she was floating in water. It looked as though she was floating in the ocean at night when the sky and the water blended together into a murky grey. Slowly, she kicked her arms and legs, then dove beneath the surface. The water was dark, Hermione couldn't make anything out, but she could swear she saw dark shapes flitting away from her out the of the corner of her eye.

 _Focus, Granger_ Snape snapped at her. All at once she felt something akin to a current sweep over her body, carrying her deeper under the surface. As she let it take her down, Hermione grew certain of the shapes in the water with her for the deeper she got the more frequent and bigger they grew. When the current brought her too close to one, she could just barely make out voices, sometimes even see the silhouettes of figures, in the dark shapes.

The current brought her deep, deep into the waters until it was no longer grey, but pitch black. And then it stopped. Hermione tread water in the blackness, though she didn't feel as though she was actually in water anymore, more like she was floating.

 _What am I supposed to do?_ Hermione asked, hoping Snape would provide instructions.

 _You must embed yourself in my subconscious,_ Snape answered, his voice echoing in the darkness around her, _Leave something of yours here, something I can't find. When you are ready, turn your focus back to your own consciousness, close your eyes._

Hermione was still confused, but she obeyed. Thinking quickly, she removed the small, golden necklace around her neck. It once belonged to her Grandmother, and Hermione rarely wore it, but decided it was the only article of clothing she felt most comfortable removing in her Professor's mind.

When she had released the necklace, and felt it float away from her, she took a deep, focusing breath and squeezed her eyes shut. With a dizzying rush, Hermione was thrown back into her own body and surrounded once more by the warm, illustrious bubble.

 _I hope that worked_ Hermione thought, fighting off the dizziness.

 _I can assure you, it did._ Snape's voice echoed through her head.

 _We can talk telepathically?_ Hermione asked, not sure whether she was exited or terrified with the discovery.

 _Obviously_ , Snape drawled in answer.

"So is that it then?" Hermione asked out loud.

"Unfortunately not, that was the first step, though the success of the first part is highly encouraging." Dumbledore answered her, his voice sounding far away, "Severus, if you would continue?"

Hermione glanced up at Snape in time to see him give the Headmaster a curt nod and his features glaze over with indifference.

Pulling his wand from his robes, Snape's dark eyes scrutinized each inch of Hermione's body. Hermione felt her cheeks heat and shifted her weight in the uncomfortable silence.

 _What is the second part?_ Hermione asked Snape mentally.

 _We must imprint on each other's flesh._

Snape offered hermione no more details and his curt voice told her not to ask anymore. Hermione stood still and silent though her anxiety and nerves grew and bubbled within her.  
"I'm sure you will understand the need for our marks to be discreet," Snape said, then added mentally, _We must give each other a mark of our own to bind our flesh together. It will be painful._

Hermione swallowed heavily and she felt her eyes grow wide with fear. _Where will you do it?_

Snape's brows creased at her question. Your most discreet option would be your back. Lower back.

Hermione nodded, still silent, and made no motion to move.

 _Turn around, Granger._ Snape instructed, and once again, the two fell into the rolls they felt most comfortable with.

Hermione tried desperatly not to think or feel the weight in her mind as she turned her back to her Professor.

 _Lift your shirt, Granger._ Hermione obeyed, raising her old t-shirt just high enough to reveal the smooth skin of her lower back.

 _This will hurt, but it will be over quickly,_ Snape warned.

The words had only just passed his lips when Hermoine felt a horrible stinging pain on her lower back. She hissed, and then gasped as the pain spread into a sharp burn. Heat spread up her back and across her skin, until her entire body was stinging. Then, all at once it was over. Hermione's breaths came in gasps and her chest heaved from the previous pain. Slowly she turned to face Snape once more, confusion written in each crevice of her face.

"Your turn, Miss Granger," Snape instructed, though his voice was softer than she had heard it before. He began moving, unbuttoning and pulling up the sleeve of his right arm.

 _I have less chance of exposure, my arm will do._ Snape said, but his voice was quiet.

 _What do I do?_ Hermione asked, grateful that her mental voice was firmer than her real one would have been.

Snape did not answer immediately, instead he pulled from within his robes the pale, slender piece of wood that was her wand. Hermione's heart gave a jump at the sight of it and she took it eagerly. Once again, she felt that hole insider her grow fuller.

 _Use the signa pulpa incantation and sign your name on my arm._

At Snape's instruction Hermione swallowed heavily. She was scared to complete this part of the ceremony, especially after experiencing it first hand. _He's done worse to you_ , Hermione reasoned with herself, _He's probably had worse done to him too. Just do it, Granger_

 _Indeed, Granger. Just do it._ Snape hissed in her mind, giving Hermione the motivation she needed to lay the tip of her wand on the pale flesh of his forearm and recite the incantation.

When she did, a pale, silver light came from the tip of her wand and cut through the skin of his forearm. Hermione gasped as a crimson drop was brought forth.

 _Dammit it, Granger. Do it. Now._ Snape growled in her head.

Quickly, she moved her wand across his skin, signing her name. Small beads of blood gathered on his skin, but Snape gave no indication he was in pain. When it was over, Snape raised his wand and cast a silent cleansing charm over the area to wash away he blood.

Hermione's hand was shaking, out of nerves or fear she couldn't tell, but relief washed over her regardless at the completion of her task.

Until she remembered what the next part entailed.

Hermione knew that Snape was aware too because his body grew stiff while her breaths came faster.

"When does the next part happen?" Hermione asked, her voice sounding so small, even to her own ears.

"It will need to occur within the hour." Dumbledore answered, fixing her with a gaze full of compassion and sympathy.

The effects of the magic surrounding them still had a hold on Hermione, for though she was afraid, it felt more like nerves to her than fear. _Why am I not terrified? I should be horrified, appalled. Whats wrong with me?_

 _Don't worry, Granger, I'm sure the fear will come in due time._ The mix of sarcasm and anger in Snape's voice did little to instill fear.

 _How come you can hear me, but I can't hear you?_ Hermione asked,

 _I am a highly skilled occlumens._ Snape responded arrogantly, _Even if I were not, my access to your infuriatingly insistent mental ramblings might also be a side effect of the Relligo Potentia._

Hermione's stomach dropped at the reminder of that dark night.

"Severus, perhaps Miss Granger would like dinner?" Dumbledore encouraged, though his voice was full of very little question and more instruction.

"Indeed," Snape bit out between gritted teeth.

Professor McGonagall, who had been muttering an incantation, stopped and the bubble that surrounded them fell away. Once again, Hermione felt an emptiness somewhere deep inside her, though this time it was not as large.

"Miss Granger, if you would follow me?" Snape asked, none too nicely, and swept away to the Office Door.

Hermione moved to follow suit, but was stopped by McGonagall's hand on her arm.

"Remember Hermione, you are brave. So very brave. You can do this, and you will do this." McGongall whispered to her vehemently, "And if he does anything to hurt you, I will personally transfigure him into a —"

"Its alright," Hermione cut in, "I agreed to this."

Hermione forced herself to see the truth in her own words and to see them through. Slowly she made her way to stand beside Snape who stood stiffly at the door. He did not say anything to her, but began walking and she followed.

Hermione stayed a few steps behind him their entire journey to the dungeons, mostly because he walked at an unusually fast pace. _What's his rush anyway? Merlin knows what will happen when we get there.. ._

Severus prided himself on his composure and self control, but the moment he felt the spell of the Binding Ceremony intertwine his and Granger's magic around them, he couldn't help but let himself relax, only slightly, at the warmth and pleasantness that surrounded him.

The first two parts of the Ceremony were relatively painless, even when Granger stalled signing her name.

The shapeless form that had been swimming through his consciousness earlier and taken form after the first part of the Ceremony. It was an otter. It flitted through his consciousness eagerly and determinedly, and after she had claimed a part of his mind, he was helpless to stop it taking a form. Under the spell of the Ceremony, in the warmth of the magic, Severus had allowed himself to take a sort of comfort from the otter. He berated himself and loathed to admit it, but having the girl's presence take such a demanding shape in his mind was obnoxiously comforting. It was hard to feel alone when you were busy chasing off annoying critters.

Severus kept up a fast pace to the dungeons, refusing to acknowledge the small footsteps echoing behind him. So desperately he wished to run. To tell her to run. To warn her that about the gravity of the acts she was about to commit. Binding herself to him, would be assigning herself to a particular form of hell.

He couldn't run though, no matter how much he wanted to.

He didn't want to do this. He didn't want to take advantage of his student. _She's hardly more than a child. Your student. She doesn't deserve this._

The thought came unbidden to him. The young Gryffindor was reckless and let her heart rule her actions, but she was smart. Possibly the brightest student he had taught. She had potential. To truly work for the light, and to have a future. All the things he couldn't have.

 _No matter how much I don't want to do it, I must._ Severus thought.

 _Do you really? A small, torturing voice chided in his mind, Do you really not want to fuck her?_

Severus forced himself to admit that the girl was bright. Not only bright, she was brilliant. Her mind is one that Severus would long to take into his realm and nurture with knowledge until it reached its full potential. The more human part of himself loathed to admit it, but Granger's brilliant mind wasn't all of her appeal. She was attractive. Very much so. Were he her age, Severus could only guess about the extent of feelings he would harbor for her.

Severus dreaded the third part of the Ceremony. It has to be done, Dumbledore's word's glided through his head.

But would anyone believe him? Would they believe the greasy, dark bat of the dungeons actually didn't want to subject his student to this? To this life of duality? To a fate worse than death? To a life with himself?

 _Wait until the next part of the Ceremony,_ his mind tortured him once again, _If she has anything for you but hate after that it will be a miracle._

 **Thank you so, so much for reading! Please Review!**


	9. Irrevocably Bound

**A/N: Hey, all! Thank you so much for sticking with this and reading it! This chapter is the first one of its kind I've written, so be nice with me - and if you don't like, don't read. Just curious, when Snape and Hermione are talking telepathically, I've put their thoughts in italics in past chapters and bold here, any preferences or any style you guys prefer? Please, please let leave a review to let me know what you think! And without further ado. . . Enjoy.**

Hermione had never been to Professor Snape's chambers before, and from the looks of it, she sincerely doubted anyone had.

The room was heavy with dark woods and leathers and thick rugs. The fireplace was large and cast a warm glow on the dark room, softening its hard edges and sharp corners. The room was dark with the texture and color of its contents, but there was a sad quality to it. As though it yearned for a touch of someone to care for it. She could easily see herself curling in the leather chairs before the fire, but as soon as the thought entered her mind she felt the sharp push it leaving.

"Sit," Snape commanded, though his voice was quiet. There was a worn leather sofa to the side of the fire, and Hermione crossed the room to perch on it nervously. She stared into the dancing flames as her thoughts raced in time with her pulse.

"Have you eaten?" Snape asked, from somewhere behind Hermione. At the mention of food, Hermione's stomach gave a long, loud growl.

"Not lately," Hermione answered softly. She heard a sigh of annoyance in response to her answer.

"I'll send for some food from the elves," Snape said, making his words sound more like a chore than an offer.

Hermione said nothing, and neither did Snape for some time until there was a loud pop. Hermione turned in time to see a house-elf setting a heavy silver tray with two serving plates on Snape's desk. Then with a swift bow, her was gone.

Hermione crossed the room to the food automatically. The smell of the roast chicken and vegetables was more appealing to her than anything she had smelled before.

"When was the last time you ate, Granger?" Snape asked, not looking up from the stack of papers on his desk.

Hermione considered the question."A few hours, at least."

"Then by all means eat, Granger," Snape instructed. His voice was annoyed and sarcastic and if Hermione were not so hungry, it would have spurred her ire.

Hermione wasted no time in commencing to eat the roast. She was so wrapped up in the food, that she did not feel the weight of her Professor's gaze on her for some time.

"Are you going to eat?" Hermione asked. Once she had discovered his gaze, her cheeks had flamed in embarrassment.

"Seeing as I have the sense of mind to keep myself fed, I can forfeit one meal," Snape answered with a sneer.

Hermione felt thoroughly embarrassed. She moved quickly back to her seat on the couch beside the fire and stared into the flames. They danced and writhed before her eyes, hypnotizing her.

Hermione had never done _this_ before. She had thought about it and even dreamed about it, but other than a few fumbling encounters with Krum in her fourth year, she had never done anything remotely like what was sure to happen with her professor. O _h God, My professor!_ Hermione thought as her heart lurched painfully in her chest. If she thought herself to be nervous before, it was nothing compared to the nerves that invaded her bloodstream now.

Over the roaring of her nerves, Hermione could just make out the sounds of faint rustles and small tinkling sounds behind her. She could just hear the footsteps, no doubt heavier than usual as to not scare her, as they approached her on the sofa. Forcing her eyes from their stare into the flames, Hermione took a deep breath and turned around.

Snape stood just behind her, rigid and composed as ever, holding two tumblers containing an amber colored liquid. Silently, he held one out for her and she accepted, raising the glass to take a whiff of the liquid.

"Firewhiskey," Snape answered her unvoiced question. In a ripple of robes, he moved to sit beside her on the sofa, his gaze now turned on the same flames as hers.

Hermione was nervous, so nervous that she didn't feel his hands when they reached up to brush her untamed curls over her shoulder. When she noticed, she gasped. She felt his hands continue to brush the stray curls over her shoulder, exposing her neck to him.

"I've never done this before," Hermione blurted, squeezing her eyes shut tightly.

 **I guessed as much,** Snape answered in her mind.

Hermione couldn't stop her thoughts. At Snape's answer to her embarrassing statement, her mind reeled and writhed with wonder if he in fact _had_ done this before. _Of course he has, you daft dimbo. He's a grown man. There's no reason why he wouldn't have._

Snape did not answer her thoughts regarding him, instead continuing to brush the hairs away from her neck.

 _Lavender says its best if the man is experienced, that he'll make it better for the girl,_ Hermione's mind supplied to calm her nerves. Still Snape was silent.

Hermione lost in her thoughts, but the feather-light press of lips to her neck sliced through them. She gasped at the feel of Snape's lips on the back of her neck, but it was the jolt of energy that shot straight to the hole inside her, filling in the edges of it that truly shocked her. In this small touch of his skin to hers, something inside her seemed to grow. _Is this normal? Surely this isn't. He's my professor, of course this isn't!_

His lips continued to kiss her neck, his touch controlled and light. Barely more than a whisper of lips against skin. But Hermione felt it deeply. Snape's lips continued to cover the skin of her neck and she felt the weight of his body move closer to her, sitting more firmly behind her. Hermione was so lost in the feel of the touch on her neck that she hardly noticed when her body was pulled to sit firmly in Snape's lap. It was only when she sank unconsciously into the heat of his body that she realized exactly _who's_ body she was pressing herself into.

With a start, Hermione's body reacted before her mind, pulling itself off of the Potions Master and to the other side of the couch in a split second.

"I. . . I just. . ." Hermione could't find the words to describe her feelings. She couldn't even describe them to herself. She was nervous and anxious, and admittedly afraid of what was to happen, but a part of her was also excited for it. And that terrified her even more.

"Miss Granger, you do understand this must happen?" Snape asked her bitingly. His jaw was tight and his eyes were full of the flames from the fireplace.

Hermione only nodded in reply.

 **There are potions to take, in case you wish not to remember this.** Snape added in her mind. His words only added more confusion to her jumbled up thoughts.

Then there was clarity.

"I want to remember," Hermione wasn't sure if she was talking to herself or to him, " I want to remember."

"Very well," Snape agreed, though Hermione could have sworn he sounded angry with her answer.

Neither spoke, staring once again into the flames.

"

Are you prepared for your classes?" Snape asked her. His voice was stiff and emotionless. Hermione was confused at the question, _since when does he care about my schooling?_

"Yes sir," Hermione answered automatically.

"There will be no need to call me sir, Granger. At least not privately," Snape said.

 _"_ Sorry, sir," Hermione replied automatically, then flinched at her use of the word. _Privately?_ Hermione thought, _so there will be more of this?_ _I just wished he'd get on with it already, maybe if we just get_ it _over with it wont be so bad._

 **This will take time, Granger. It is important not too rush ahead to avoid any unnecessary pain.**

Hermione gulped.

 **I don't know what to do,** Hermione admitted to him, not trusting her voice.

 **Follow my lead.** Snape instructed, sounding very much like the Potions Master he was.

Then, ever so lightly she felt the brush of hands sweep her hair back over her shoulder. Instantly, Hermione felt that same energy she felt earlier. When all her hair was back, his lips descended once more to the pale skin of her neck.

Closing her eyes, Hermione let herself feel his lips. Feel the energy that flowed through her and shot straight to the hole inside her, building it up more and more. She gasped, this time from the sensation.

Severus was not inexperienced when it came to sex. Though, it had been many -too many- years since his last experience.

As soon as the girl sat at the edge of his sofa, he knew that was going to change.

 _Dammit, Severus. This is too far. She's your student! Last year you were grading her exams and now you're going to fuck her?_

Despite his internal rage, Severus felt confident that he would be able to occlude long enough and deep enough to make it through the next hour, sanity intact. Until she whispered, so small and softly, that she had never done _this_ before.

 _You're going to take her virginity. No woman, no girl deserves that,_ Snape thought. Eventually he forced his hands to work once again. To focus on the single task of clearing her neck of its curtain of hair. After the task was done, he forced his mouth to explore the pale territory of her neck. At the first taste of her skin, tingles broke out across his skin. At the second, they softened and warmed.

She relaxed under his ministrations, and instead of pulling her to him, he scooted his body up until his back was pressed to her chest. And like a miracle, her body relaxed against his. The warmth of her body went straight through his skin and traveled somewhere deep inside him. Damn the Binding.

Moving his lips from her neck, he moved them to her ear, tracing the outer edge of it with his mouth. He brought one hand to rest on her shoulder, the other to cover the pale skin of her throat. Severus watched with apprehension as her small hand rose up and wrapped itself around the wrist of his hand at her throat and squeezed. At first he took it as a sign to stop, but when she gave a small gasp and arched her back ever so slightly into him, his heart flew to his throat. _She's responding to you!_ Snape thought, then berated, _Get a grip on yourself!_ His heart had began to beat faster sometime around the relaxing of her body into his.

Severus moved his hands slowly down her body from where they rested on her throat. Skimming over the swells of her breast, he moved further until he could slip his fingers under the hem of her sweater, then he began moving his hands back up her body. Her skin was warm under his palms and smooth. So smooth.

He lost himself in the feel of _feeling_ another person. His hands cupped her breasts and her chest jumped with her hitching breath. Severus didn't move his lips from where they roamed her neck, and he could feel her hot breath on his face as she began to pant. Her back arched, pushing her breasts into his hands. Severus wound one hand around her back, unclasped her bra, then brought both hands back to her breasts, now free of restraints. At the feel of his bear hands against her breasts, they both gasped.

Without warning, Hermione turned her head to catch his lips with hers.

When her lips touched his, Severus stopped breathing. Their lips moved in synch, with a hunger and urgency Severus didn't even know was there and terrified him with a cold grip he'd not felt in years. She turned in his lap so that her front was facing him, and climbed into his lap. Her smooth legs hugged his thighs and squeezed them together. Hermione kept her body raised and her hips in the air, for which Severus was glad. He was achingly hard and did not want her to know just yet the effect she was having on him.

Damn the Binding.

The kiss never softened. It was hungry and desperate and searching, and it took both of them by surprise.

Hermione moved her lips from his and began to trace them down over the pale skin of his neck. She could feel his chest rise and fall with his labored breathing and his fists were clenched in the fabric of her skirt. She wasn't sure if it was desperation or desire that fueled her actions, but her mind was too clouded and distant for her to analyze it clearly, and for the moment that was all she wanted.

When Hermione kissed a spot on his neck, below his ear, he gasped. _Professor Snape actually gasped! Because of me!_ Hermione continued to assault the spot on his neck that caused such a reaction. His fists moved in a flash, one moment in her skirt, the next they were pulling off her sweater and tearing off her bra.

As her bare breasts met the cold dungeon air, Hermoine flushed with embarresment and moved her arms to cover them.

"No." Snape growled out, pulling her hands away. Snape's voice was deep and rough, nothing like the smooth baritone it usually was. His lips went back to her neck, this time more urgent than before. They moved down the column of her throat and when he got to the bandages above her breasts he kissed them. Just a single peck. But it made Hermione's pulse race, even faster than before, why she couldn't tell.

Without warning, his lips moved lower, roaming over her breasts that heaved with each breath, and his mouth latched on to her nipple. Hermione cried out before she could stop herself. Looking down at her enigmatic professor giving so much attention to her body, Hermione felt a lighting bolt of heat through her core and sending more heat between her thighs.

Her hands rose of their own accord to tangle in his dark hair and Hermione felt the vibration of a moan as it tingled across her skin. Slowly, she lowered her hips so that they came to rest on his. His legs were firm and his body was warm, but that was not what made Hermione gasp and her eyes widen. Beneath her, she could feel the hardness between his legs as it pressed into her.

 _Professor Snape has a hard-on,_ very _hard-on. Because of me!_ Though she should have found it disturbing, Hermione rejoiced in the thought. She let her hips lower even further on to him until their most intimate places were pressed together tightly. The feeling was heady and blotted out the pain she'd labored under for endless days.

At the feeling of their intimate touch, Snape's dark gaze met her. Hermione had never seen his eyes so dark and stormy. They were glazed and hungry, and Hermione felt a surge of feminine pride at the look.

Snape stood quickly, holding tight to her thighs, and carried her swiftly through the door at the side of the room. Past the door was a stone staircase which he ascended quickly despite still clinging on to Hermione in his arms. Hermione turned to watch where he carried her, and saw that he had brought them to a bedroom. His bedroom.

The room was similar to his private office. There was a fireplace and the floors and walls were a dark wood, but instead of a desk there was a simple wooden bed. Hermione gulped unintentionally at the sight.

Snape brought her to the side of the bed, then dropped her to her feet none too gently. .

"Take your skirt off," He instructed. Hermione's eyes went wide at the command, then noticed Snape's hands unbuttoning the front of his shirt. She stared, barely breathing, waiting to see the pale flesh that lay beneath, but his motions stopped when he noticed her gaze.

"Take your skirt off," He said again, his tone firmer this time. "And lay on the bed."

Snape turned and crossed to stand before the fire. Hermione did as he asked time, forcing herself not to consider what was about to happen.

As she lay naked on the bed, Hermione felt her anxiety building and closed her eyes. The feelings Snape had brought out in her earlier Hermione had no idea even existed, nor would she in her wildest dreams think _he_ would be the one bringing them out in her. Still, at the mere memory of his lips on her neck, or her breasts, Hermione felt warmth flood her stomach and pool between her thighs.

The dull throb between her legs was growing and becoming harder to ignore. She squeezed her thighs together and tightened her legs hoping to relieve some of the pressure. Hermione started at the feel of warm hands coming to rest on her knees and she opened her eyes once again to find the dark gaze of her professor. She could only imagine what Ginny - God forbid, what Harry and Ron - would say if they were aware of what was about to happen between her and their most hated professor.

The room was dim, Hermione could only just make out his form, but she felt his warmth and the weight of him on the mattress. The hands on her knees moved slowly up and down her legs. Goosebumps broke out across he skin and she once again felt the surge of warmth inside her. The pressure coiling inside her had grown beyond what was comfortable. Hermione wanted relief from it as much as she wanted her next breath. Snape's hands continued their slow journey up and down her legs, tantalizing her.

Hermione couldn't help but whimper and whine and her hips rose of their own accord, hoping to feel his hands where she most burned for them. In the dim light, Hermione heard a gasp then felt Snape's hands rise up her legs more firmly.

As they grew closer to her thighs, Hermione's pulse sped up and her breaths came in pants. At the first graze of his fingers over her slit, Hermione let out a whine she hardly recognized as her own, and heard Snape give an answering growl.

Snape's fingers moved more firmly across her slit and Hermione's hips twitched and arched under his minstrations. In her haze, Hermione felt one of his long fingers find her opening, and push slowly into her. The noise Hermione made at the sound was deep and throaty and moaning.

Snape's finger pushed into her, then retreated, then pushed in again. He kept his pace until Hermione was squirming and twitching, then she felt him add another finger to meet the first. At the second finger, Hermione gasped as she felt a twinge of pain, but it was soon forgotten with the wash of pleasure that came over her.

Hermione couldn't say how long his fingers moved inside her, but with each movement, she felt the pressure inside her growing. And then it broke. Hermione felt pleasure wash over her in waves as her insides tightened around his fingers. When it was done, Hermione lay there panting in the darkness as she felt Snape's body come to lay beside her on the bed.

At the start of the night, Severus had been afraid that he would not be able to _perform_ because he would only see his student when he looked at Hermione. But as Severus looked down at the woman beneath him, he could find no traces of his student in her lust-glazed eyes. Or in her arching back or wriggling hips. Nor could Severus find traces of student or teacher in the heated kisses he placed on the pale column of her neck or in the small moans that escaped through her parted lips when he first dipped his finger inside her.

When he moved to lay beside her, Hermione's body was so warm and soft, and his was so ready for her that it took all of his control not to roll on top of her and burry himself in the warm folds he had just explored with his fingers. As her breaths evened, Hermione turned to look at him with glazed eyes. Severus couldn't stop himself. He leaned in and kissed her. Hard and hungrily. She kissed him back just as eagerly, wrapping her arms around him.

Slowly, for his own sake or hers he couldn't tell, he moved over her and nudged her legs apart, gasping as she spread them wide for him to rest between them. At their proximity, Severus could feel her chest as it rose with breath and feel fingers as they clung to his back.

 _Merlin help me,_ Severus thought as he lowered his hips and began pressing into her.

Hermione felt Snape's hardness nudging at her entrance and she instinctively held her breath in anticipation. As he pushed in, Hermione closed her eyes at the stinging pain that grew as he entered.

"Oh fuck," Snape breathed, so quietly that had Hermione not been holding her breath she would have missed it. The pain was sharp, but Hermione couldn't help but marvel at the feel of the illustrious man buried so deeply inside her.

Hermione let her breath out in a quick rush of hot air and his dark eyes met her as her breath fanned over his neck. Around them the air was crackling and thick. Hermione's skin began to prickle and tingle as the energy around them enveloped her. In their locked gazes, Hermione could tell that he was feeling the same as she was. His hips twisted and pushed between hers. All she could do was gasp and cling on to him under the assault of pleasure.

Hermione's mouth was parted, her lips glistening, and her hands clung to his shoulders. Her breaths came in gasps and Severus listened to each one of them as though they were the last thing he would hear.

"Does it hurt?" He asked, his voice was gruff with exertion. She gave no answer except for another gasp, so he slowed the movement of his hips until he came to a stop.

"Does it hurt?" He asked again, and this time her eyes were wider and more alert. She did not answer, not verbally at least, but she gave her head a quick shake. That was all the encouragement he needed.

Severus moved again, only barely noticing the silver glow of the bubble that had bloomed around them. He felt the pressure grow within him and her grip tightened on his shoulder. It felt good. Too ' hips moved faster, and the girls breaths came in sharper gasps beneath him. Just as he looked down her eyes went wide and her hands clenched him tightly, her body tensing, then becoming immobile.

 **What's wrong?** He asked into her mind, not trusting his voice.

"I've never felt like this," she gasped out loud, then mentally she added, **I feel like I'm going to break.**

"Let go," Severus urged, wanting nothing nee than to feel her break beneath him, "Let go, Granger."

And sbe did.

In a spasm of clenching fists, sharp gasps and clenching inner muscles, she broke. And when she broke, he did too.

They shuddered and gasped into each other, both lost in the feeling of their mutual pleasure. Neither noticed the golden glow of the bubble around them turn into a misting shower of small silver sparks. In this moment, they became one.

Severus returned to himself swiftly enough to role his weight off of her, and then off of the bed entirely. He rose quickly and re-buttoned his pants. She remained gasping to catch her breath on his bed. His chest was tight and throbbed in the way it had soon after Hermione woke.

"You may compose yourself here, but it would not be wise for you to stay the night," Snape instructed, forcing himself to fill his designated role once again. His skin still tingled from where it once touched hers.

"Is it done?" Hermione asked. Severus felt a hot flash of masculine embarrassment and shame flood him until he realized she was asking about the Ceremony.

"Yes," Snape answered stiffly, "Test your magic."

Hermione did not move at first, then slowly reached toward the bedside table where his wand lay. Aiming it at the fire place in the wall before her, she cast a water charm.

A string of clear, pure water shot out of the tip of his wand and landed in the hot coals of the fire. It did not cease until the red coals changed to a dark, ash.

"It works," Hermione whispered. Severus watched small tears gather in the corners of her eyes and desperately wished to put an end to the girl's emotional display.

"Well that was the point of the Ceremony," Snape replied scathingly and Granger's eyes shot to his, wide with surprise.

 _Did I say that out loud?_ The girl's thoughts mused.

 **Even if you hadn't, I would have heard it just the same.** Severus saw Hermione's lips twist at his unvocalized words and quickly turned away. he was sure now of the ache in his chest, as she cast the charm he'd felt a peculiar tugging, in his mind and somewhere deeper inside him that could only mean one thing.

His magic and her magic, his life and her life were now irrevocably bound.

 **Please, please review and let me know your thoughts! Thank you so much for reading!**


	10. Making Plans

**A/N: Hey everybody, I am so sorry for the ridiculous amount of time since updating, so much has happened but I am finally back writing again. Thank you so much to everyone who review and reads this story, you don't know how much it means to me and how much it makes me want to keep writing. Please let me know what you think and keep commenting!**

 **Once again, enjoy!**

Hermione spent the better part of the next day stowed away in Gryffindor Tower. Madame Pomfrey and several house elves had made poorly disguised visits under the guise of hospitality to check on her.

She knew they were watching.

Dumbledore. Snape. McGonagall. Pomfrey. The entire bloody castle.

All were waiting to see Hermione's next move. Or rather her next breakdown.

It had not been easy, the Binding Ceremony had taken more from Hermione than she had realized she could give. Under the threat of losing her magic, Hermione would have done anything for a chance to regain it. And that's exactly what she did.

Hermione flushed at the thought of what exactly she did for her magic. _You mean_ who _you did._

A wave of anxiety-fueled nausea swept over Hermione. How in Merlin's Beard was she supposed to spend an entire school year in Professor Snape's class knowing what they'd done? How was she supposed to listen to his lectures and concentrate on his classwork without remembering the way he'd touched her, or kissed her, or his face when he'd-

It wasn't terribly, she'd decided, the binding. There was a fluttering occasionally in the back of her mind, and indescribably feeling like a whisper of a wing somewhere in the depths of her consciousness that flexed. It was a symptom of the curse, no doubt, Hermione wondered if it would leave

Hermione broke off the thought before it could be fully realized. Truly, it was all a distraction from the greater problems she faced.

The curse, _Relligo Potentia_ , as Dumbledore called it, was only another obstacle in the sea of trials she and others would face in the coming years. With _He Who Must Not Be Named_ on the rise it would be only a painful slide into chaos. Though the Ministry finally acknowledged the threat that lay before the Wizarding World, the entire world, little action had been put in place to stop him.

And Harry…

Hermione felt her chest tighten at the thought of her best friend's suffering and losing his life. And there may be more to come. For all of them.

The floo flared brightly, pulling Hermione abruptly from her thoughts. She swiped quickly at the tears she had not realized she'd shed until the awakening of the floo. The Head of Gryffindor straightened her robes dutifully as she stepped into the Gryffindor Common room.

Hermione gave her best attempt at a smile as the older woman caught sight of her curled in the window seat.

"Hermione," Professor McGonagall's voice was soft, almost comforting. Instantly Hermione felt her resolve crumble that much more at the tenderness and hesitation in the woman she'd come to admire. "I figured you were tired of house elves, I thought I'd check on you myself."

The professor sat herself in the space by Hermione's feet. She should have been embarrassed at her state, the day was nearly over and she'd yet to eat or bath or change from the sleep clothes she'd thrown on after returning to her dorm. She'd been crying, not in pain, but in suffocation of the overwhelming, nameless weight that seemed to sit on her, and last night with Professor Snape-

"How are you feeling?" McGonagall's question pulled Hermione from her thoughts.

Hermione considered the question. She felt too much she hardly felt anything at all. "Tired."

Professor McGonagall nodded. "Have you eaten?"

"A bit, I'm not very hungry."

The older Gryffindor caught sight of the two trays of food discarded on a nearby table and gave a disapproving look at the large amount of food left over. The familiar look brought Hermione a small peace. She'd seen it many times before with her best friends at her side.

"The bond was successful," Her professor looked uncomfortable but determined. "Did the consummation go… was it… Oh bloody hell! He didn't hurt you, did he?"

Hermione flushed, studying the thread of the seat cushion with decided interest. "No, of course not."

"And you were prepared?"

Hermione flushed uncomfortably. "It was fine. I'm fine."

"You are strong, Hermione, and fearless, but you are not fine." Professor McGonagall laid her hand gently on Hermione's curled leg. "It's alright to hurt. It's alright to cry and scream and be as sad or angry as you need to be, as long as you know when to keep going. This is your time to heal, Hermione. You've been through more than I can imagine, and I daresay it will not get easier. But you will get stronger."

A large knot rose in Hermione's throat. She was choking on her own emotions, the fear and pain and anxiety.

"Classes start in a week, we need to discuss—"

"I want to stay at Hogwarts. I need to. Harry and Ron and my classes, I need—"

"Shhhhh," Professor McGonagall pat her legs soothingly. "You will always have a place at Hogwarts, but we will need to discuss the conditions of your year. Your curse" the professor stalled shortly at Hermione's wince at the mention of her attack "will make things difficult. We still do not know the totality of its effects, your magic has been restored, but there is still the possibility of problems along the way. Only time will reveal the extent of your condition."

Hermione recalled the little information she'd been given on her curse, her _condition_. The power and impact _Relligo Potentia_ is dependent on the power of the castor. The limits of her condition could be nonexistent. It had already stolen her magic once, could it drain it again? How deeply was she connected to Professor Snape? How much power over her did he possess? What will-

"Hermione," Professor McGonagall gave a firm shake to her grip on Hermione's upper arms. She'd been so lost to the torrent of her thoughts, she hadn't noticed her breaths that came in short pants or the freely flowing tears.

The sobs came over her quickly and violently. In the next second, her shoulders shook with the force of her tears and her breaths were harsh and quick. McGonagall reached for her, holding her tightly the way Hermione's mum used to hold her when she was a child.

Hermione did not know how long she cried or how long her professor held her, rocking gently and rubbing tender circles on her back. It felt like ages she was lost to her fear. The sky beyond the window had in fact dimmed.

She drew away from her professor's embrace, wiping away the excess tears as she messily fought to control her breathing. "I'm sorry. I—"

"Hush, child. Don't apologize. Merlin knows I would be a mess, certainly not a contained or quiet one, were I in your shoes."

Hermione bowed her head, catching sight of the bandages a house elf had applied only hours ago. "Please don't tell them. Harry. Ron. Ginny. The Order. I don't want them to know."

Professor McGonagall's face fell slightly, a sad understanding marring her features. "Madame Pomfrey is already aware of your condition and I believe Kingsley may be as well, but no others will be told unless you wish it. This does, however, mean that should you experience any unusual symptoms or irregularities regarding your person or your magic, no matter how inconsequential they may seem, you must report them to one of us, Hermione. We have a better chance at minimizing the damage if we can identify it."

"What sort of irregularities?"

McGonagall's brows creased, her head shaking slightly. "Dark magic manifests in many ways. None of them are easy and they all seek to attack the individual, to diminish them. That is why you must be aware and vigilant and not hesitate to report anything you know is wrong. You've suffered a lot, child, and you will need time to heal, but you're a smart girl, brilliant, you will know when something is wrong."

A broken random thought flitted through Hermione's mind, could Professor Snape hear her every thought? Did he witness her every move, her conversation, her tears?

"The Binding, it is permanent."

Professor McGonagall nodded.

"Will that have effects as well?"

Her professor nodded again, slower and heavier this time. "There will be effects, but they can be curbed through training and communication. That is another point I meant to discuss with you." she drew in a deep breath "You do know about the practice of Occlumency?"

Hermione nodded.

"The Headmaster and I, along with Professor Snape of course, have discussed the benefits of you taking lessons. Merlin knows how successful it was with Harry, and I can only imagine how patient the saintly Snape will be, but the lessons will help you, Hermione, if you agree to them."

She considered carefully. It would require her spending time with Professor Snape, presumably alone together. Hermione could only imagine how uncomfortable and painful it would be, but she already knew it was something she must do. Any weapon or advantage she could procure, she would accept readily.

"When do we start?"

"You need to eat, a full meal, before we do anything" Professor McGonagall summoned an eager house elf and ordered to sandwiches and soups "Term starts Monday and students will arrive Sunday. I will work out with Professor Snape and the Headmaster the best time for occlumency lessons after reviewing your class schedule."

"I'm free Tuesday, Thursday and Friday evenings or during lunch hours Monday and Wednesdays but I'd like to save those evenings for study."

Professor McGonagall gave a chagrined laugh. "You've memorized your class schedule?"

She nodded. "And end of term exam schedules."

"Of course you have, well I'll have to work it out with Severus but if I remember, Tuesday and Friday evenings he can work with you. Would you like me to be there?"

Hermione considered the question. Did she want to be alone as Professor Snape sought entry to her mind? "Perhaps, just for a while."

The older Gryffindor nodded and patted her leg gently as their food arrived. Hermione was grateful for the distraction as her professor talked aimlessly about her term preparations and her annoyance at the mandatory staff meeting starting earlier so they would have more time to discuss lesson plans and holiday decorations. Despite the pain and turmoil of the past days, Hermione was ready for term to begin. She couldn't remember a year she _wasn't_ ready for term to start, but now more than ever, Hermione longed for the blissful business that came with classes and studies. More than anything she wished for a thorough essay that required hours of research and annotations. Anything to numb the roaring thoughts that had taken over her mind. And the one thought that cut through them all and blazed like the red eyes that haunted her nightmares.

 _What happens now?_

Severus massaged the bridge of his nose. A migraine was on the horizon and he still had lesson plans, a Wolfsbane to brew, and now, extensive research on curses that demanded his attention.

On top of it all, the girl's, Miss Granger's, thoughts had yet to cease their succession. The shape of her presence in his mind flitted and tossed about in the murky waters of his mind. At some point in the hours since the consummation of the Binding Ceremony, the invading presence of his mind solidified.

An otter.

It swam eagerly and was draining to stave off if Severus did not wish to be made privy to the girl's every waking moment and thought. She went from tears to reminiscing to terror and pain to sisterhood and to curiosity and concern with nearly each passing thought.

The migraine was duly deserved.

Severus let out a curse as he released a deep breath.

 _You have a talent for fucking up, Severus. And for bringing others down with you._ He could not forget his guilt and his own transgressions in his new arrangement. The tingle of power lingered with his every movement, a deep well of it opened in the back of his mind, always whispering temptation. Severus didn't yet know the full effects of the curse or the binding, but nothing in his life gave him any hope that it would be easy or _fine_.

The green fire flared with the floo as the Headmaster's voice came through.

"Severus, I'd like to see you in my office before the staff meeting," the old man said. Severus dropped his head, pinching the bridge of his nose. He'd forgotten about the meeting, the one that seemed to grow longer and more taxing with each passing year. He grunted out an affirmative and raised his quill to finish the line of lesson plans he was on. "Oh and Severus, if you could bring that tonic, I'd be much appreciative."

 _Tonic, what bloody to-_

Severus dropped his quill. The floo silenced. He stood and opened the small, hidden cabinet behind his desk and removed on of the small vials, leaving only six behind. The vial was small and full of a clear, pearly liquid that was one of the strongest concoctions he'd worked with in all of Severus's years in potions. Silently, he counted the months in his head and the potential endurance of the concoction with room for tolerance to build against it. The numbers weren't good, Severus's head throbbed.

He stepped into the floo and stepped out into the Headmaster's office. The man himself was bent over near his desk staring into the pensieve. Severus waited by the window until the Headmaster rose, trying to ignore the flitting of the otter's presence in his mind.

"Ahh Severus, lemon drop?"

"The day I accept your candy is the day I blast off my own—"

"Did you bring the tonic?"

He nodded and withdrew the vial, passing it to the Headmaster, now sitting behind his desk. Severus remembered on the occasions he'd visited the office as a student, how grand it seemed. A room full of knowledge and stature, a beacon to something greater. Now Severus saw the chips in the wood desk and the piles of notices from the ministry.

"There are only 6 more."

Dumbledore nodded, opening the vial. He didn't hesitate to down the contents, the brew had no scent or taste but Severus knew its potency was nearly unrivaled.

"I'm sure you are aware of my limited remaining time, we will have to begin very soon discussing plans for my, shall we say, retirement. I'm sure Tom has plans for it as well."

Snape gave a noise of assent, he found it harder and harder to be in the headmaster's presence, especially today.

"I assume the Binding Ceremony went well."

"Well?" Snape hissed. "I bedded a bloody student and you're worried if it went well?"

"There will be consequences, I'm sure. Have you discussed with the girl how you two plan to combat them."

"As the need arises, I will see to it that she finds treatment." He gave nothing else.

"She is a very bright and talented witch, Severus, I should hope you understand her importance as Harry's friend."

"Is this concern for your _chosen boy_ or for her?"

"Why shouldn't it be both?"

Snape pinched the bridge of his nose, this was going no where and he could feel his ire rising. That heat and power that circulated within him only hours ago had diminished but not been removed entirely, Severus knew what that meant. He still possessed remnants of the girl's powers, it would mean ascertaining that he maintained only bits, and making sure that the binds were-

He didn't let the thought finish itself. Snape stood quickly. "If you are feeling better, I have a potion to brew or we will half a dog problem come the full moon."

"Very well, Severus. You will be joining us for dinner, correct?"

"I'll take dinner in my quarters."

"That wasn't a request," The pleasant smile on the Headmaster's face did not mask the command of his words.

Snape bristled and lit the floo, only swearing when its connection was closed and he was back in his dim quarters. There was a pile of sheets beside the fireplace he'd torn away from his bed last night after the girl had left and he had yet to summon a house elf, not to clean them, but to replace them entirely. He sank down onto the old sofa.

Last night had not been entirely unpleasant, in the odd moments where his mind strayed past lesson plans and potion ingrediants, he found himself replaying the gasps and moans, the feel of her legs around his-

"Damn it." He swore.

"Well good afternoon to you too," The Head of Gryffindor house passed through his floo and into the space before the fire, he saw her face wrinkle when her gaze landed on the sheets.

"What are you doing here?"

"Severus," McGonagall chided. "All these years I thought all you needed was a good bedding and-"

"Damn it, woman!"

"—and here you are as acrid as ever."

"If you are through insulting, please leave."

She sat beside him on the couch and Snape rose quickly. "I'm here to discuss plans for Hermione, she will need training."

"Occlumency."

"Yes, she is open Tuesday and Thursday nights, as are you."

"I will have detentions to monitor."

"You will just have to make students wash out your pots or split your worms other nights, she needs the practice," the sternness in the older woman's voice was undeniable and Snape already knew how important it was for the girl's mind to be protected.

"I thought you would have more insults than that, I'm a lecherous, greasy git that just slept with a student and all you have come to say is that I should spend more time with her."

"If I thought you were truly any of those things I would not be here, not like this. Do you have more firewhiskey?"

He rolled his eyes as he resumed his position at his desk and pointed her in the right direction.

"I've just seen, Miss Grainger, she is doing as well as can be expected."

 _What the hell does that mean?_ But Severus already knew. He'd been privy to most of the girl's inner monologue all day and knew exactly how she was doing. He'd tried at times to silence the connection but found himself keeping it open to ensure her thoughts did not stray into dark territory though he had no plan to handle them if they did.

"She's a Gryffindor, you lot bounce back quickly."

"Mmmm, I believe that's called resilience.

"I prefer to say _reckless."_

 _"_ Severus, Hermione Grainger is not reckless. She may be a bit rash-"

"I have six years worth to prove that."

"-but not reckless. However, she is doing much better than I can say I would be if I were her."

"Indeed."

McGonagall finished the tumbler of fire whiskey and crossed the room toward his desk, taking a seat in the uncomfortable wooden chair he kept across from it for student use. Her nose wrinkled and she silently transformed it into a plush, scarlet chair. He sneered.

"If you're done redecorating, you can-"

"Do you trust the security of the bonds, Severus?" The older woman's question was heavy and his breath escaped him in what he barely disguised as a huff. "Will it be enough to combat the curse?"

"I have been attempting to do research if I ever got a moment alone," he sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. "I think the bonds are secure, but they won't be enough. Not permanently. _Reliigo Potentia_ is powerful, the Binding will hold but will crumple either with time or with her usage."

The Gryffindor sank back in her chair, nodding solemnly. She silently sent the bottle of whiskey and two tumblers toward them, pouring them each a sizable glass. "They will need to be renewed in time."

"Yes," the word was heavy, it felt like rolling a bolder out of his mouth to say it.

"And she will learn occlumency in the meantime?"

"I have no true estimate yet, but Occlumency is taxing for the best of wizards. she will need to learn it, quickly, but it might shorten the time before a necessary renewal dramatically."

McGonagall took a drink. "We will have to work out a time and place for you to meet, and a place for you to... _renew_ when the need arises. Unless you wish for them to occur here?"

"No," he nearly growled. It was hard enough going about his day with the reminder of the girl in his quarters, he wasn't sure he could handle many more memories of her here. "I will secure a place when the demand presents itself."

"Very well, I plan on accompanying her on her first Occlumency lessons, this Tuesday lets plan on the first?" It was a question but only barely. She finished her tumbler and cast a cleaning spell before rising. "i will see you at dinner, Severus."

 _Damn it,_ he thought as the floo grew green. He tossed back the whiskey and checked in on the flitting otter, _What will i tell Harry if he finds out about Occlumency? Perhaps I can help train him as well, and Ron. Though there is probably not much for Ron to protect in his head._ He snorted. Severus had never known the girl to possess a sense of humor but the small thought sent a relief through Severus he didn't know he needed. It seemed the humor was a sign that the girl was indeed surfacing, that she would bounce recklessly back out of the darkness.

 _If only the same could be said for the rest of us._ Severus worked on his lesson plans until all other thoughts were buried beneath them.

Hermione changed out of the wrinkled old clothes she'd worn all day and into a uniform she kept stowed beneath her bed for such an emergency. She had never had to wear it before and it did not feel right putting it on, but she was not going to dinner with her professors dressed in the wrinkled clothes she had before.

Her mother used to say that a new outfit just might change your mind, the memory made it harder for Hermione not to cry as she laced her shoes but she successfully made it past the Fat Lady without letting tears spill. The walk to the Great Hall was shorter than she wanted and she found herself ducking into a small alcove to gather herself.

Her hands shook, she knew why, but thinking about it too much only made it worse so she focused on her breathing. She trusted her professors and knew they wanted best for her, if she was going to resume classes and spend time with Harry and Ron and Ginny again, she'd better learn to keep her composure now. She carried her wand tightly and quietly cast a spell to send small lights dancing around the tip of her wand. She'd been checking spells all day just to make sure the ability was still there.

Hermione stepped out of the alcove and into the dark body of the one person she wasn't ready to see. She nearly lost her balance as she recoiled, only a firm grip around her upper arms kept her standing.

"I'm so sorry, I—"

"Didn't see me while hiding in a dark corner."

She drew in a breath. "I wasn't hiding."

Professor Snape only lifted a brow. She dusted off the front of her uniform and patted the pocket with her wand.

"You're right, I've never seen a person spinning lights while trying to blend in with the shadows."

The professor's tone was stiff and bitter, yet Hermione found herself handling it better than anything she had all day. This Snape she knew, this one she understood. The man who'd been with her last night, above her, that man she didn't know. That was the one she had been afraid to meet.

"I'm late for dinner, Professor."

He sneered, and crossed the wide doors. "So am I."

Hermione felt the shock register as he held the door open and mockingly waved her through. The Great Hall had been cleared of its usual house tables and a single table, brilliantly decorated and filled with food, sat in the center. If she had been nervous before, the echo of her and Professor Snape's steps across the nearly silent hall was like a death march.

Dumbledore rose as she neared and politely pulled a chair out for her. "Miss Grainger, good to see you back to your usual color. Sit, sit."

Professor McGonagall sat to her other side which left her across from the Potions Master. The Headmaster smapped his fingers and their plates filled to nearly overflowing with sampling of each of the dishes at the table. The smell was overwhelming at first and it took Hermione a long minute to decide which dish on the plate seemed appetizing. She settled on the roasted potatoes.

"So, Miss Grainger, have you decided on any particularly stimulating classes this semester?"

She swallowed the potato and felt it burn down her throat. "I have an Advanced Runes class and a Medicinal Spells course I am excited for, of course I always enjoy Transfiguration and Potions."

Professor McGonagall smiled knowingly and Professor Snape let out a snort. She flushed and filled her mouth with potato again.

"I'm sure you know, Professor Lupin is once again resuming his role in Defense Against the Dark Arts, much to Severus's displeasure."

Hermione stowed away the information and wondered how having Lupin back at the school would be different this time around. He was an adequate enough teacher and Harry needed somebody else around him that understood how much Sirius meant to him. "That will be nice, he's very good in his classes."

She could feel Snape's glare but kept her gaze on her plate.

"He's certainly better than that numb-headed Lockhart." Hermione gave a small grin and saw the Professor McGonagall was waiting for such a reaction after her comment.

"Severus always asks for the job, though he understands why I cannot give it to him."

Couldn't give it to him, Hermione turned over the phrase in her thoughts as an awkward silence fell over the table.

"Do you have your supplies for the school year?"

She shook her head. "I don't have anything."

"Its no problem, give Professor McGonagall your necessary supplies and I will send an elf to fetch them for you form Hogsmeade."

Despite the pain, some part of Hermione rejoiced at the idea of new supplies and books. "Thank you, Headmaster."

The rest of the meal passed amiably with most conversation between the Headmaster and Professor McGonagall except where she was drawn in or Professor Snape offered a snarky comment. She found her thoughts not wandering as frequently to the ceremony of the burning skin on her chest, though she could feel their presence like another alien presence in her mind.

"That was a lovely meal, was it not? The elves never fail to impress me."

"Yes, thank you for inviting me to dinner," Hermione said.

"I'm afraid I will have to dim the bright evening by discussing plans for us to combat this tragedy," She stiffened and saw both Professors mirror her in the corner of her eyes.

"We do not have to do this now, Albus," McGonagall's voice was stern, but Hermione knew it could grow harder.

"I'm sorry if you do not wish to proceed, but I am sure Hermione will agree there are plans to settle going forward, don't you?"

She nodded, it was the only thing she could think to do. Hermione fingered the wand against her thigh, making sure it was still there and responding to her. Her heart had began to climb into her throat.

"As I am sure you are well aware, you and Severus now share a connection that will require much getting used to. There are mental and physical side effects –"

"Albus," Professor Snape growled.

"—that will need to be treated."

"You mean Occlumency? I've already discussed with Professor McGonagall that I am willing to learn."

"Thank you, Hermione. I know you will take to it brilliantly, however, there are other consequences to consider."

"Physical?" Her question was barely a whisper. She was squeezing her wand now, her hands shaking around it.

"Indeed, the Binding Ceremony is very permanent, but it is also subject to expiration or weakening."

"Expiration?"

"The strength of the bond will fade in time and will require –"

"Albus!"

" – renewing for longevity."

"Damn it, Albus," Snape growled. "We don't know that yet."

"It is best to be prepared, Severus. Should she lose her magic in class or later in a more serious confrontation, well that is something we _all_ wish to avoid."

"I could lose my magic again," She wasn't sure if she was crying but she heard her voice break.

"The Binding Ceremony restores your magic, but the connection means your magic is pooled together now. However, because of the curse cast by Tom, there are going to be unpleasant consequences, it will mean that the pool of magic will not always be accessible easily to you. It is unclear, for the time being, what causes that inaccessibility, it might be time or usage, we will have to see as it arises."

For a second Hermione could breath, then air came rushing back to her in a blinding pace. "I could lose my magic again."

"I'm sorry, Miss Grainger," Dumbledore spoke. Snape was glaring and gripping his arm rests tightly, McGonagall reached out for her hand wrapped around the wand and gently began massaging her break-neck grip loosely. "But we must prepare for such occurrences. Occlumency will greatly strengthen your connection to the pool and your control over your inner magic, but the curse cast is a powerful and ancient one, it will have its due."

"How will I get my magic back?"

The silence was thick and she realized the answer was somewhere in it she wasn't willing to look. Finally, McGonagall spoke up and revealed it to her. "The Binding must be renewed if your magic is draining again."

 _The Binding must be renewed,_ she understood what that meant. She'd have to once again sleep with Snape. "If it is not renewed, I will lose my magic."

The professors didn't have to speak for her to know the answer. All at once Hermione's bones grew heavy and there didn't seem to be anything in her head but that wispy shadow that had lingered since the ceremony. She knew who it belonged to, it wasn't her own. "I'm tired, I want to go to bed."

She stood and three sets of gazes followed her movements wearily.

"Hermione, dear, its alright," McGonagall was at her elbow, patting the back of her hand gently.

"I'm just tired, really. I was… up last night." The tears threatened to spill, she wasn't bothered by the Professor's gazes or the silence around her, she wanted back in her tower, or back to her house. She wanted away from this and the memory of the magic that could be drained from her anytime.

"I'll walk you back," McGonagall held her firmly and began ushering her out.

"Minerva, I have something to discuss with you –"

"I'll be back, Albus."

"—something important. Severus will escort her back, wont you?"

She could hear his growl and Hermione felt her knees weaken at the thought. She forced strength into them and pulled away from her Head of House. "I'm fine, I don't need an escort."

Already she could feel her strength draining.

"Minerva, a word."

The Gryffindor swore beneath her breath, at any other time Hermione would have flushed at the creative profanity, but she couldn't find the strength. She was nearly to the door when Snape caught up to her and it took everything in her to push it open and cross the Opening Hall. The Potions Master did not speak but she heard the echo of his steps following her. She made it to the stairwell before her knees gave out.

Hermione crumpled, hitting the stone floor before Snape could catch her and she was already well into her tears when he pulled her to her feet. She felt the sobs wrack her and the shadow in the back of her mind grow stormy and dark. The skin on her chest was burning and tight beneath her uniform.

She didn't want her professor escorting her, she wished he'd leave her to her tears and let her get herself back to the Tower, but he pulled her up and into his arms none too gently. They were nearly to the Gryffindor Tower when she could once again breath without sniffling.

"I… I'm.. sorry."

"I've seen first years cry more than you," The dark professor provided. It wasn't exactly reassuring or comforting.

The portrait of the Fat Lady was nearly in view now. "You can set me down."

He didn't waste time stopping and putting her back on her feet. Her first steps were wobbly but she straightened them quickly enough. "Thank you."

The Professor gave a noise she couldn't read and she swiped at her puffy eyes to clear their leakage. They were almost at the Tower and Hermione was ready for the solitude yet found herself lingering.

"Are you upset about the Binding?" The question slipped out before she could stop it. The sound of the Professor's steps stopped suddenly behind her as she came to stand outside the Fat Lady's portrait.

"What kind of question is that? I may be a _greasy old bat_ but I don't go around dreaming of having my magic and mind bound to sixteen year old Gryffindors."

She flushed but didn't flinch. "I'm upset too."

"What did Dumbledore mean, about him not being able to give you the job?"His sneer would have made a first year run but Hermione didn't have any run left within her. Hermione patted her wand again and noticed the dark professor watching her eyes narrowed with understanding.

"My position is precarious enough. Were the Headmaster to give me the job, I would be forced to relinquish certain aspects of my... ambiguity."

She didn't understand at first, but understanding wriggled its way to the surface like a worm through the mud. "Potions allows you anonymity but Defense Against the Dark Arts doesn't?"

"indeed."

She nodded. Her bones were heavy and her eyes rolled with exhaustion. It was the sort of tired that she'd feel on long car rides through the country with her parents and later she'd wake up tucked into her own bed. "Do i need to read something before Occlumency lessons begin?"

Silence. Then finally, "There are two books I will send to you tomorrow. They do not have to be read in their entirety but a general knowledge of their content will be beneficial."

"Alright."

"Go to you bed for Merlin's sake, Miss Grainger before you begin drooling on my shoes."

She nodded and silently lumbered through the portrait. Hermione didn't make it to her bed but instead curled up with Crookshanks on the plush sofa and pulled him close. Before sleep took her completely, she found herself seeking out the dark cloud in the back of her mind and realizing, with little alarm, that it was not a cloud. It was a wispy and flitting, but perfectly defined doe.

 **Thank you so much for reading, please leave a comment to let me know what you think and if you want more!**


	11. Letting the Truth Slip

**Hey guys, sorry for the wait, but thank you all for being patient - I've already started work on the next two chapters so they will be out much faster! All the reviews and follows/favs are so encouraging and mean so much to me- please keep reviewing and letting me know what you think about the story! Enjoy**!

"First rule of occlumency?" Professor Snape's distinctive voice was tired and bored.

Hermione knew the occlumency lessons were mandatory, or at least a protective provision they'd both agreed to, but she didn't understand why the potions master had to make his annoyance so obvious.

"The first rule is to clear your mind." She recited from one of the three books she'd poured over in preparation for the lesson. There were only two days until the start of term and after her lesson, she'd have dinner with the faculty – most all of them had nearly arrived by now – and then a meeting with the few faculty members that knew her situation to discuss the best way to appropriate it to her friends. The thought of lying twisted her stomach and on top of the nerves and simmering emotions of the past week, Hermione didn't see much hope of clearing her mind successfully.

"Before that," the dark professor drawled.

"I.. well.. the first rule," Hermione flushed and stuttered uselessly beneath the professor's gaze. She'd found it much more uncomfortable than she'd anticipated to be in such close proximity to him after their binding. Thoughts of that night seemed to spring up unbidden by her with vicious clarity.

"Where is your usual insufferability?"

"Severus, really, spit it out already," Professor McGonagall scolded from the corner. She'd accompanied Hermione to the first lesson, and would continue to do so until she felt comfortable enough on her own. McGonagall sat in the corner of the office nearest the fireplace editing lesson plans and provoking – only barely disguised as defending – Hermione.

Professor Snape sneered and glared at the older witch who didn't notice. Hermione tried not to shrink beneath his gaze when it leveled on her. "Before clearing your mind, you must discover your mentalscape. And in order to do so successfully –"

"You must know your Elemental Affinity, I knew that," she berated herself.

"Well? Have you figured yours out?"

Hermione gazed up at him with wide eyes. They'd only briefly discussed Affinities in class last year but after Seamus set off a Weasley Wizzard Wheezes beneath his desk and gave Camilla Griggory boils on her -, their lesson had ended without a confirmation of their Affinities. "No, sir."

He sneered and his eyes rolled lazily. "Hold your wand out and close your eyes."

Hermione hesitantly obeyed, but noticed Professor McGonagall watching the scene from the corner with bright interest.

"Close your eyes, Granger. And face your wand away from me," Snape growled. Finally in position, Hermione took a deep breath as she waited for more instruction. "Now, to the best of your ability. Clear your mind. This is not at thorough as it needs to be for occlumency, just silence any surface thoughts you can. I will be listening."

Hermione's nerves didn't settle. Her thoughts bustled and scattered like marbles across the floor and no matter how hard she tried she couldn't collect them fast enough.

 **Focus, Granger.**

The voice in her head shocked her and strangely enough, she felt the marbles of her thoughts begin to slow. She decided to focus on her breathing and the echo of her professor's voice to keep the slowed pace.

Finally, she found some peace. The thoughts of the school year were gone, the thoughts of curses and bindings and friends and parents were gone too.

 **Good** _ **.**_ She smiled slightly at the affirmation. **Now, grip your wand properly and focus on Air.**

The vague directions provided little for Hermione to focus on. She felt dumb and useless as she attempted to think of the feeling of wind in her hair or whipping her cheeks.

 _What exactly is supposed to happen?_

 **We are finding your affinity, Granger, or have you forgotten already.** She bristled and imagined a gust of wind pulling the potion master's cape forcefully. **Focus, Granger.** He growled.

She flushed and tried to picture wind again.

 **Move on, focus on earth.**

 _Earth?_

 **Did you not hear me?**

Growing angry, Hermione imagined rolling in mud, how it felt squished beneath her toes. Then sand sticking to her calves in the summer and the dirt beneath her finger nails helping her Mum in the garden.

 _What exactly is supposed to happen?_

 **When you find your affinity, there will be magical outpour from your wand. Move on to water now.**

Moving on, Hermione pictured the ocean, wide and humming, and the feeling of being tossed inside it. Then the rain slicking her cheeks and the snow sticking in her eyelashes and hair.

 _Anything?_

 **Move on to fire now.**

She heard the rustle as her professor took a step back and she grew nervous herself. This was her last option, she had to be fire.

Hermione thought of the roaring gold flames of an inferno, brutal and bright. All she could see was the burning red in her mind that made her heart leap to her throat.

 _Is it working?_

 **Not yet, focus your thoughts, Granger.**

 _I am focused._ She grit back. Her mind was filled with flame and she worried that all the clarity she'd achieved with no little satisfaction would be a permanate fixture if the flames caught hold of them.

 **Focus, that is not the only form of flame.**

Her professor's words did not bring comfort and she fought back the thoughts of the inferno until she was left with the void once again. Breathing feavily, she tried to imagine a different fire. She saw the fireplace in her family's home and Crookshanks curled in front of it. She saw the candles on her birthday cake and the small blue flame beneath her cauldron and the warm hearth of the Gryffindor tower.

She felt something shift into place inside her, warm and firm, as if she truly stood in front of the fireplace. That warmth within grew until she felt it slipping out of her in unsteady waves, afraid of being blown out.

 **Good, Granger.**

She opened her eyes. From the tip of her wand, a small golden flame, like the tip of a candle, fluttered lightly in the dim dungeon.

"I'm a fire myself, Granger," Professor McGonagall said warmly from the corner. She was no longer sitting at the desk but on it with her hands pressed together.

"How very surprising, a Gryffindor having an Affinity with the most reckless and chaotic element?" Snape drawled. Hermione shook the wand until the small flame went away.

"I would've thought Slytherins were more aligned with fire," Hermione said, too quickly for her mind's filter to catch. Professor Snape gave her a withering glare but a loud snort echoed from the back corner as McGonagall once again sat down at her desk.

"Now that you've found your Affinity, we can begin, _if_ you manage to clear your mind," He raised an eyebrow as he finished speaking and gave her a pointed look. **You've managed it before, now again, Granger.**

It took long minutes to clear her thoughts again, the awareness that her mental movments were being watched certainly did not make it easier. When she'd pushed back all that she could, she spoke out to Snape, not daring to vocalize and ruin her concentration. _Now what?_

 **Now, you must build your mentalscape. I assume you've consumed enough facts about it?**

As he spoke, in the clearing of her mind a form seemed to twist and bend. It felt strange, like something tickling her, and thought it was clearly foreign – and clearly _him_ – it wasn't so terrible as she would have thought. She recited what she'd read from the books, priding herself when the shape let off a wave of annoyance that she knew would coincide with a calculated, if not exaggerated, eye roll. _A mentalscape is a sorting system of the mind to control the location and flow of information. It is based around the individual wizard's Affinity to incorporate the root of magic flow. Once a scape is constructed, the individual will be able to sort and control the intake of information to allow for the most successful occlu-_

 **Yes, enough, Granger,** she allowed herself a smirk. When Professor Snape spoke again, it was aloud. "Now, form a scene based around your Affinity, as fire, it would be easy enough to imagine anything associated with fire. Be careful that if you use the sun as a source, you craft it so that you do not create any shadowed confines – they will innately draw darker thoughts and secrets and will stick out to any Legilimens like a –"

"What is your scape?" Hermione asked, not daring to open her eyes. She felt the form in her mind, his form, freeze.

"You will learn in time if you advance. Now, begin construction."

Hermione circled through dizzying images of flames and exhausted all sources and scenes within minutes. She felt dreary and defeated and suddently the shadow of Snape in her mind was not strange and ticklish but mocking. There was no scene or scape that came naturally to her. She even tried imagining the fireplace in the common room and allowing her thoughts to scatter in and fill it, but they hung like portraits on the wall, bared and open for all to see. It was useless, Hermione realized. There was no way she would be able to do it, she would never master Occluemency. She would be a vulnerability, a liability. She would let the Dumbledore down and the Order and Harr—"

 **Granger,** Snape growled. **Pull yourself together. You cannot construct with emotion, not in the way you have chosen to attempt to. You must find a space that comes naturally. Any forced space will not work, as you have seen, because it is not tapping into the** _ **source.**_

She felt the sting and hiss of his words and felt the ensuing sting against her closed eyes. It was hard to keep her mind cleared in her present state, the thoughts seemed to blurr past her like shooting-

Her eyes snapped open with a gasp. The idea had struck her like a well-aimed _Stupify_. She glanced up at the professor who bore her down with a glare. "I'm going to try something."

"As opposed to what you've been doing?"

She didn't bother feeling the sting of his words as she closed her eyes once more and focused on her breathing to clear her thoughts. Finally, standing in a void of her mind, she let it fill with light. They were small, broken fragments at first, but she drew them closer to her, closer to whatever core resided in her being.

Her mind filled with the light and the darkness drew in around it, but not dimming the brilliance in the slightest. The warmth incased her as certain lights drew nearer, but they flitted around and shone with radiance.

Slowly, she let her thoughts trickle in. They seeped and separated into the light, and some of them, went deeper back into the lights at the far end, and then beyond them. There were no posters of her thoughts or bared, open passages to find them.

 _Will this work?_ The only thing that had not full incorporated to the light was the ever-shifting shape of Snape's presense. It moved, always somewhere behind her, but just as entrenched in the broken light as she.

 **Stars?** Her professor's voice was cynical.

 _Will it work?_

There was an infinite pause and then she felt the decision from the shape before he spoke it. **Yes. You will need to impose a more rigid sorting system, but this will be adequate.**

Hermione was beaming when she opened her eyes. She felt the stars presence in her mind even when she wasn't focusing on it. "And now?"

"Now, I have lesson plans," Snape didn't look at her as he settled himself rigidly behind his wide desk. She turned to McGonagall in the corner who was stacking her papers and tightening a cap on her ink.

"That's it?"

"Did you expect to learn the elusive art in one day?" He raised a brow at her and she flushed in anger.

"No, but I expected to learn _something._ "

Snape's upper lip curled in a sneer that matched his glare. "You have accomplished more than that _boy wonder_ friend of yours ever did. If you wish to have any long-term success, you need to build your skills and let them settle."

She huffed and felt her Head of House's hand fall lightly on her shoulder. "Dinner is in an hour, Hermione, I think you've had a good run of a day."

"But.. I .. we…"

"Granger," Professor Snape hissed. "We will resume lessons on Tuesday."

Thoroughly feeling like a scolded child she forfeited.

"Your assignement for next time," he spoke just as she'd gotten two steps from the desk. "Is to learn how to hide a thought."

Hermione didn't acknowledge he'd spoken, but she resolved herself with a smirk unseen that she would do exactly that, and she had a few thoughts already begging to be hidden.

Severus didn't watch as the Gryffindor's left his office. He didn't work on lesson plans either. Instead, as soon as the door closed soundly and their footsteps couldn't be heard, he swore so profoundly Salthazar Slytherin himself would blush.

The girl's first occlumency lesson had gotten much farther than planned. He'd read of people with slightly innate abilities for the art, but he'd never suspected the girl with more thought jammed in her head than grains of sand on the beach could ever accomplish it. He'd had more faith in her than Potter, but her progress was astounding and infuriating.

Her proficiency in occlumency would be necessary if they were to keep the Dark Lord from having his own, unfiltered view of Hogwarts, Potter and the Order. It was good on a purely strategic level that the girl showed such promise, but Severus himself found it hard to swallow.

When he'd gotten his hands on illicit occlumency texts, the same ones he'd sent to the girl just a day ago, it had taken him months to construct an adequate mentalscape on his own. Drawing into his mind, Severus looked out over the tepid, grey waters of his thoughts.

Beneath the surface, a silver otter flitted. He avoided the form like an infection.

Getting a glimpse into the girl's mind had been dizzying, not purely from the legillimency. Her thoughts swarmed and buzzed seemingly unendingly and he'd slipped through them with quickly, tasting her memories and glimpsing into her darker parts.

He didn't go too deep. He didn't want to.

Severus understood how painful it was to have someone worm through your mind, she'd learn in time but not today. Hopefully not anytime soon.

When the floo flared, he released another impressive swear.

The old wizard flitting through brought on an similarly impressive scowl.

"Minerva told me you had a lesson with Miss Grainger today and that she showed astonishing skill."

Severus sneered. "The girl's thoughts are more chaotic than Pomona's office."

"But she has a gift."

He didn't reply but to dip his quill into the ink and begin scribbling down lesson plans.

"you will be at dinner tonight, Severus. We need to discuss how Miss Grainger will approach the subject of her disappearance with her friends. It is important for the sake of good that Harry does not know what happened, I have no reason to think he does already, so we will need to convince him that Hermione left Order quarters of her own devices and has been safe. I've taken the liberty of writing a short letter to Harry, signed by Miss Grainger, last week to be sure."

"You forged a letter?"

The old wizard gently ran his fingers across the top of his mantly and brushed them on his robes disapprovingly before sitting across from Snape. "It is only a precaution to ensure the validity of Miss Grainger's story."

"And what _is_ her story?" He grit out. Severus took mind of his white knuckled grip on his quill as not to break it.

"She will need an alibi of course so I spoke to Poppy."

"Poppy?"

"Yes, she's agreed to train Miss Grainger in medical potions. It will, of course, explain her lessons with you during the term and she will in fact be under Poppy's tutelage in healing drafts. Her training might, more than likely, prove to be quiet a useful skill."

Severus pinched the bridge of his nose. "You expect those dunderheads to believe she disappeared for extra classes and you expect Grainger to actually train in healing drafts? You don't think she has enough to handle?"

The silver wizards' eyes gleamed. "Careful, Severus, it almost sounds as if you are concerned for the girl."

"I'm _bound_ to her. We have no idea yet of the effects of the binding or if her magic return is sustainable. Training in healing drafts takes considerable focus and magic, its begging for her to run down her magic and then-"

"You would have to renew the binds," Dumbledore's voice was impassive as if they spoke of what would be served for dinner, not fornication with students. "You knew the possibility for renewal was present when you agreed to the binding, Severus."

"I guess I was a fool to assume we would be working to protect her power, not drain it."

Dumbledore straightened. "I do not need to worry that you wish to keep her powers for yourself, do I?"

The question was a blow that stole his breath. In his mind, the placid water began to ripple and rise into great swells. He grit his teeth but let no other sign of the wound show. "Has Grainger agreed to lessons?"

Dumbledore stood and linked his hands together in front of him peacefully. "I will give her the news of the opportunity at dinner. It will only be select faculty but the full faculty will gather for desert and spirits. I expect you to be at dinner, Severus. Don't be late."

He departed in a burst of green flame followed by Severus' swearing.

The old fool always had his fingers in everything. He wondered if he'd ever let the girl know that he'd written letters in her name or that she didn't have a choice in the _opportunity_ being given to her. Not that she'd mind, Severus thought, the girl was so obsessive about schooling that she'd probably be disappointed she didn't have more opportunities.

Severus dropped his head into his hands with a grimace. His head throbbed with each beat of his blood.

Extra lessons, even occlumency, meant a draining of her magic. There was nothing he could find on _Relligo Potentia_ in texts, or in her practice, that had much promise the binding wouldn't only temporarily restore her magic. It would drain.

It would drain quickly when being exercised to such a degree.

The thought Severus had tried to suppress wormed their way to the top of the water's edge and he saw the flashes of her hair strewn across his pillow and felt the press of her fingers into his shoulders. The memories brought an uncomfortable and guilty warmth.

Of all the things he'd done, the horrible and dark things that even his own mind rejected, this had to be the worst.

He was taking advantage of a student. He'd taken her magic, her body, and possibly any future she could move on to.

When it became apparent that the Dark Lord's return would bring on a war, Severus understood that was his end. Neither side's victory promised his own. If the Order won, his association with the dark would mark his guilt and his end. And if the Dark Lord won, his betrayal at his decision to fight with the good would mean a slow and horrible end. Either way, the end of him meant the possible end of the girl's magic.

When he died, depending on the last of their presumably necessary renewal of the binding, she would have a limited time before her magic was depleated. And when that well ran out, there would be little places for her in the Wizarding World. Squibs had a hard enough time, but a muggle born witch with no magic didn't make her a witch at all.

For the millionth time in his life, Severus hated himself with a fury that few could understand.

 _Oh, Lily,_ he thought, _even my death won't be enough_

An hour later, Hermione was racing through the halls toward Dumbledore's office. She was bloody late for dinner and all for fruitless research. After her assignment from Professor Snape she'd been busy scowering through the occlumency books once more for the answer, but she found none.

 _How do you hide a thought,_ Hermione repeated in her head. It seemed the answer should be obvious and simple, but based on the complexity of the rest of the art, she didn't trust the instinct.

"Ginger licorice," Hermione said clearly for entry. As the stones rumbled to allow her passage, she tried to breath deeply to ease her panting and futilely attempted to pat down her hair. She was still disheveled and flushed when she stepped into the Headmaster's office.

"Ah, Miss Grainger, perfect timing," Dumbledore greeted with a warm smile and a wave to join them at the table set up in the middle of his office. It was full with foods that instantly reminded Hermione how hungry she was.

"She's eight minutes late," Professor Snape growled out.

"Sit here, Hermione," McGonagall patted the only empty spot between her and, surprisingly, Madame Pomfrey.

"I'm sorry I'm late, you should have started without me."

"That was my suggestion," Snape grit out, though Hermione noticed the acid in his tone was half hearted.

"Nonsense, but now that you're here, shall we begin?" Dumbledore gave a quick snap of his fingers and their plates filled with considerable portions that all began enthusiastically tasting. It was a while of the only sound filling the room to be the scrape of utensils across plates and the slight mumbling of food being enjoyed and chewed.

"I daresay it would be best to begin the discussion now when we are pleasantly enjoying our food than while we are waiting on desert, I have good word that the elves have made pudding," Dumbledore said.

Hermione was glad she'd wolfed down most of her plate, her stomach twisted at his words and she wasn't sure how much more of the food she'd enjoy. "I… do…" Hermione broke of with a grimace. "How much do Harry and Ron know?"

McGonagall set down her fork and covered Hermione's hand assuringly. "They know only that you left the house abruptly and without notice. They do not know anything that has taken place in the mean while and, if you chose, it can remain that way."

She was afraid she'd start crying as she said, "Yes, yes, I want it to stay that way. I don't want them to know anything."

Her Head of House's eyes filled with understanding and she squeezed Hermine's hand before releasing it once more.

"As everyone understands, this is a very precarious position," Dumbledore had only barely touched his food, Hermione noticed, and his glittering eyes were focused somewhere far beyond their table. No one touched their food anymore. "If I am correct, and I do hope I am wrong, the consequences of the curse have not been eliminated entirely. _Religo Potentia_ is extremely dark and powerful and thrives off the strength and emotions of the castor. The Binding will nullify them, but both are very strong forms of magic that will require extreme endurance in handling. If you wish to keep the truth from your collegues, it is necessary that you train to recognize within yourself, Miss Grainger, the parts of your magic that belong to the Binding and to the curse. If you can stay attuned to their workings, you will be able to notice their effects before they become threatening and will be able to renew the Binding accordingly. The same recognition will be required of you, Severus."

Hermione risked a look across the table at the Potion's Master to find him glaring and the empty wine glass turning between his fingers. She didn't know if she felt sorry for him or angry at him, but she felt, that he could be the only one in the world that understood her position entirely. The thought decidedly made her embarrassed and sad.

"The curse will continue to deplete your magic and thus require renewals of the Binding. This will require an alibi that excuses you from your friends presence and gives you enough time for renewal and lessons with Professor Snape."

She flushed hotly and felt her palms begin to sweat. Did Snape feel the direction of her thoughts now? Did he know how confused she was by the Binding and embarrassed by her curiosity about renewals?

"What will give me that time, Headmaster? I have a full load of classes."

"That is where Poppy comes in," the grey wizard inclined his head down the table at the woman on Hermione's side who smiled down on her sadly but assuredly. "It will be a very useful skill and challenging academic pursuit, but it will also require hours in the evenings of training that will give you time away from your colleges that will go unquestioned."

"What will, professor?"

"Medical brewing."

Medical brewing? Hermione repeated in her mind. She scanned through her thoughts on what she'd read or heard on the subject in order to not appear thoroughly inept in front of her professors. What she could remember was that Medical Brewing was a very specific and specialized field of potions that brewed strong healing draughts for all types of magical ailments. Arthur Weasley had worked with Medical brewers in his time at St. Mungo's last year receiving anti-venom treatments. "I would train with Madame Pomfrey? Would I really take lessons or just tell people I am taking lessons?"

"You would take lessons. Unless of course, -"

"No!" She didn't let him finish. "I want the lessons. I want to learn."

There was a derisive snort from the dark professor across the table that made her cheeks burn but she tried to ignore.

"It will be very challenging and time consuming, Miss Grainger, so if I take you along as an apprentice, I want you to be very honest when you feel your magic weakening or when you need a break. I wont have my apprentice running herself ragged for a few potions," Madame Pomfrey's voice was stern but her eyes were kind.

Hermione nodded. "I will. Will I also continue occlumency lessons?"

"Tuesday and Thursday nights with Professor Snape. Monday and Wednesday nights and every other Saturday you will spend in the Hospital wing with Poppy," Dumbledore answered with a smiled.

Hermione let the information sink in and, despite all that had happened, she found herself growing excited. One thought seemed to be the needle running through her softly growing balloon of ease. "How will I explain my disappearance to Ron and Harry?"

Both professors turned to Dumbledore with similar expressions of displeasure, a glance Hermione didn't miss.

The Headmaster, if he noticed, didn't react. "You will tell them that you came here after discovering the opportunity of apprenticeship and have remained her to discuss with Poppy the terms and going over preliminary coursework before term starts."

There was a silence, inside Hermione and out. "You want me to tell them I left for classes? That I just disappeared without a goodbye or telling anyone to look into an apprenticeship?"

Snape grit his teeth, Hermione noticed. "As idiotic as those Gryffindors are, convincing them Hermione had left in the middle of the day without telling soul to take _extra classes_ , while it may have fit in with the girl's… ambitious personality, it is certainly was far-fetched."

"I agree with Severus. Leaving for classes will provide no explination for her condition. Something must be acknowledged, Albus," McGonagall added.

Hermione tried to slink down in her chair. Ron and Harry wouldn't be convinced. They'd know she was lying. They wouldn't trust her any more. Her only friends would… "Surely there is something else I can say."

"If you wish to tell them that you were brought into an assembly of Death Eaters and drained of your magic, all of which was given to your professor, you may do so, Miss Grainger." Dumbledore's voice hadn't lost any of its lightness or gaity, but the words pierced so deeply inside her she gasped aloud.

The silence was heavy and angry around them.

 **You have not leanred this yet,** Snape's voice echoed through her thoughts. **But a rule of concealment in occlumency is to let enough of the truth slip out and muddle the rest of the story to write a new one.**

The words weren't kind in her head, but as they sat in the silence, they rang out with truth. Let some of the truth slip out, Hermione repeated. Let some of the truth slip out.

"I didn't mean to leave, it was a mistake that I was taken with Professor Snape. But he was able to drop me off at Hogwarts before answering his call. I've had to stay here and not been able to communicate to make sure that no one picked up on Professor Snape's company before his arrival."Her words were hardly more than a whisper, but when she raised her head once more, there were three gazes of surprise, and one of impassivity, that met her. "Would that work?"

There was more silence as her story was mulled over, she waited, this time with nerves and not pain.

Finally, Dumbledore spoke. "If you feel that would best please your friends, and protect your relationship with Harry, I think it should work fine."

She nearly slipped from her chair in relief. McGonagall reached once more for her hand and gave it a friendly squeeze, sneaking in a proud wink when she looked up to her.

Their plates were empty and cleared magically, then filled once more with pudding. She had no appetite left and felt the only thing left inside her was exhaustion and the dark shifting form in her mind that never seemed to leave.

Dumbledore bore into his pudding with large slurping bites that was not nearly as endearing as it should have been.

"Hermione, you look dead on your feet," Madame Pomfrey said aloud. "Students arrive tomorrow, if I were you I would enjoy your last night in your quarters alone."

She recognized her given excuse for dismissal and took it happily. Hermione yawned widely which was not forced at all. "I think I will," she rose, "thank you for the opportunity for the apprenticeship, Professors," she gave each of them a smile, even Snape who sneered in return. "Goodnight."

"Goodnight," the echo came behind her, but it was lost to the stone twisting around her as she left.

Her nerves were almost unbearable as she paced the Gryffindor Tower common room. People had slowly began filtering in, all with amiable greetings, and time was quickly closing in on the hour they were expected in the Great Hall. Still Harry and Ron were not here.

Perhaps they're going straight to dinner, she thought, without her, they probably missed their carriage and were running to make it on time. The thought eased a slight edge off her nerves and she slowly lumbered up the stairwell to her room.

"I'm so excited for the term, _Eeeee_! You know Roger has already asked me to meet him in the west corridor for snogging, and hopefully it wont end there," Lavender's high and unmistakable voice greeted Hermione as she entered her now filled room. Pavarti and Lavender both fell silent upon her entrance so she changed quickly into her uniform and tried to ignore their conspicuous whispers.

In the Great Hall, Hermione was smothered by a joint hug by the Weasley twins but couldn't ignore the now tight feeling in her stomach that her best friends were not yet in the Hall. Where the hell were they?

She sat impatiently, trying not to let her gaze stray toward the Slytherin end of the hall. _Where were they?_

The lights went up and the Headmaster rose and crossed to the podium, there was a blank stretch of the bench across from her that the other Gryffindors had naturally left for Harry and Ron and the Hall fell silent while they waited for the Headmaster's address.

"Good evening and a warm welcome, students!" Cheers and clapping. "I am looking forward to a wonderful and transforming school year, but lets not keep the first years waiting, Professor McGonagall?"

There was a dull, low sound as the Hall's doors opened wide to reveal the bubbling and awe-struck faces of the newest crop of first years. Hermione felt a sharp tang of sadness as she remembered the feeling of entering the Great Hall for the first time, even after all these years and all she'd gone through, the magic of that moment didn't leave her.

Her eyes blurred with tears which she wiped away quickly and didn't notice the space across from her filling.

When she looked up, a wild-haired Ron and an intensely staring Harry were before her.

"Harry! Ron!" She gasped, Hermione had to stop herself from leaping across the table to hug them and had to wipe away a second spitting of tears.

"Blimey, Hermione, you haven't been gone that long," Ron laughed. A cold awareness came over her and she remembered the story she'd devised with her professors. Ron didn't know. He had no idea she hadn't just gone away for educational opportunities.

Harry, however, hadn't let his intense gaze sway from her. She noticed for the first itme the tightness in his jaw.

"Harry?"

He shook his head and looked around them. She noticed the gazes of a few other Gryffindor's they'd caught and realized he didn't want an audience. Hermione felt her nerves grow.

They watched the Sorting ceremony until there were only three students left, that was when she felt Harry kick her foot, not too gently, beneath the table. She turned to him sharply to find his gaze, bright and burning, on her again.

"I know why you left, Hermione," faintly he traced his scar. Hermione couldn't breath. "I saw it all. Everything."

 **Thank you so much for reading, please leave a review to let me know what you think!**


	12. Betrayal

**Sorry for such a long time until the update- life's been crazy. Thank you, thank you, thank you to everyone who has taken the time to read this. Your reviews and enjoyment mean so much to me! Please keep reviewing to let me know what you guys think or if you have suggestion. Enjoy!**

Hermione couldn't breath.

" _I know why you left, Hermione," faintly he traced his scar. Hermione couldn't breath. "I saw it all. Everything."_

The Great Hall was busy and roaring around her, but the whole world seemed to have narrowed down to her and her best friend staring accusingly across the table at her.

"Wh- What do you mean?"

No one around them had seemed to notice the intense conversation going on, the other Gryffindors talked and ate noisily and happily.

"Don't play stupid, Hermione. I saw it, I saw you there… with _them._ "

The world had narrowed to his words and angry stare. Her mind was blank, she couldn't find anything inside it, even the rehearsed excuses she'd crafted with her professors, to save her. In the back edges, slinking just out of the way, was the dark shaped she'd noticed, the dark presence in her mind that did not belong to her. In desperation, she reached for it.

Hermione felt the inner tug as the Binds tightened between her and her professor. She gasped.

"You don't have anything to say? I can't believe you, I _tried_ not to believe it, but I saw everything, Hermione," Harry's words were a hiss of anger and, beneath that, hurt.

Her eyes welled. "Harry—"

"Potter," A voice drawled. Hermione hadn't noticed the dark robes that appeared behind Harry, or the dark eyes above them. "The Headmaster has requested your presence in his office."

"I'll see him after-"

" _Now._ "

She could see the anger in Harry's tight jaw and flaring eyes, but he, thankfully tossed down his napkin and rose. Hermione bowed her head, pressing desperately back against the tears. The conversation around her had dimmed.

"Miss Granger," The Potion's Master's voice drawled. "Your presence is required too. Can I help you, _Weasely?_ "

Ron's cheeks flushed as crimson as his hair as he watched their exchange openly. He looked up at her over a lowered chin as she rose and met Professor Snape at the end of the table. She was unusually self-conscious walking through the Great Hall with the Slytherin head, she knew there was no way for anybody to recognize the connection between them, but it seemed that such a profound change in her relationship with her professor was large enough to have some repercussions. Only staring eyes and whispers barely covered by palms was her sign that anybody noticed her and the Potions Master exiting the Hall.

They were only barely outside the doors when she could no longer hold back her questions or tears.

"He knows. Oh gods, he knows!" Hermione's voice was high and broken in weak gasps. "He's never going to look at me the same….and of course he'll tell Ron…they'll never understand."

"Pull yourself together, Granger," Professor Snape pulled them both into a shadowed alcove just out of the main entrance of Hogwarts. His grip remained just above her elbows, firm and grounding but with no sign of the anger in his hiss. Aside from the occasional bored ghost, they were along in the hall. "The Headmaster was paying attention to your little conversation with the boy, he has called him into the office to see exactly what it is Potter _thinks_ he knows. He'll be sorely disappointed, I daresay."

Hermione sniffled ungracefully and caught on to his words. "Disappointed?"

The professor straightened away from her. "Potter never had a mind for occulmency."

Her eyes widened, a flutter resounded in his chest. "You know what Harry knows?"

"The boy knows nothing," Professor Snape said with a roll of his eyes. "He does in fact share a connection with the Dark Lord, but his skills of reasoning have always been lacking. He saw a vision of myself discussing the benefit of having a student inductee at Hogwarts."

"Inductee?"

He looked strangely uncomfortable. "Inductee into the Death Eaters. One who has pledged allegiance but is not marked."

"Oh."

Snape sneered. "The vision he saw last was one I shared with the whole of the Death Eaters, one to solidify the story that we have decided on to explain your absence, a vision of you leaving with me to Hogwarts. As per the boy's poor deduction, he believes –"

"He believes I'm the inductee?" Her voice was high with indignation. Snape's hiss brought a flush of embarrassment to her cheeks and the both checked to make sure the Hall remained empty. She felt the tickle of a charm as he cast _Muffliato_ around them.

"He is discussing the matter with the Headmaster now, I'm sure he will fix any gaping holes in the boy's logic," the tears Hermione had barely held a grip on spilled over. Through the blur, she saw the professor sneer once more and continue. "The Headmaster has asked that you meet at his office with the boy, however… I don't see any reason why you wouldn't have _gotten sick_ after dinner and you had to be taken to your rooms."

Hermione swiped at her eyes. She nodded. "I don't want to talk to either of them right now. Thank you, Professor."

She stepped out of the alcove, folding her arms around her and starting through the opening hall to the stairs when she heard the steps echoing behind her. She felt the dark presence of the Potions Master as he caught up to her and kept a safe, professional distance at her side.

"I've never known anyone to leak as much as you," he drawled.

For some unknown reason, his jibe didn't sting as much as it should have. Hermione was deeply hurt in a way she couldn't have prepared for, like her first flying lesson when she'd gripped and mounted the broom exactly as the textbook had told her and felt the sickening tilt as she fell off just the same.

"I thought it would be terrible lying to them, knowing that I was keeping something so massive from them. We've never kept anything from each other. All this time I thought it would be me not being able to trust Harry or Ron, I… I never expected that Harry would have so little trust in me."

Her tears were silent and blessedly, the halls were filled with only candlelight as the opening feast took place downstairs. They were mounting the moving staircases when Professor Snape spoke.

"I've mentioned before his lack of reasoning abilities. You three have been sickeningly loyal to each other, if it were left to the boy's reckless reasoning, he wouldn't have doubted you."

His words were low as though he was afraid of being overheard. Hermione sniffed and cleared the tears away again as she mulled over the words. They struck her as odd and it took her the rest of the way on the stairs to realize why.

"If it were left to his reasoning?" She looked up to the professor who resolutely did not meet her gaze. "You believe it's being tampered with?"

The tightening of the professor's jaw was the only response for a long while, until they'd drawn to a stop at the entrance to the Gryffindor Tower. "The events and discoveries of last year have been a preoccupation of mine. As you know, it is important that I know precisely where the lines down the two sides are drawn, the discovery of the boy's connection – one deeper than previously thought- was cause for alarm and study. No, I do not think his thoughts are all his own."

"Then wha—"

"We will not meet for lessons tomorrow but I expect you in my office precisely 8 o'clock, sharp, on Tuesday. Understood?"

Disappointed, she nodded.

Hermione turned to give the password to the Fat Lady, stopping in the threshold to watch the billowing of the strange professor's robes as he sliced through the hall. Not for the first time, Hermione was reminded of the personal truths she'd read in the files and wondered exactly what had happened to that broken, unhappy little boy that turned him into the enigmatic professor she knew.

Classes start earlier and earlier, Severus thought as he made his way through his quarters to the office, each term grew longer and his own time grew shorter.

He never took his breakfast in the Great Hall, instead, waiting on his desk when he arrived, was a plain tray of coffee and porridge. There was no sugar and cream for either, the brown and khaki color of the food and drink was a dull smudge of the elf-shined tray. He sighed and reached for the coffee.

It had been too easy talking the _golden boy_ off the edge, he sensed even the Headmaster's disappointment at how willing he was to believe them. Hermione had not gone to any gathering of the Death Eaters, Snape had not been discussing a student spy, and said spy certainly was not his best friend who loved him very much, Severus sneered as he remembered how easily the boy had swallowed it all down.

It didn't speak well for the strength or resilience of what little the boy had for a mind, he thought. If his theories were correct, the Dark Lord had direct access and influence over his thoughts, and Severus had no idea how aware either party were of their connection. If the Dark Lord knew, Severus decided, we would all know. There would be nothing stop him from exploiting the connection to the detriment of them all.

And then there was the girl…

Miss Granger's reaching for the bond had shocked them both, and Severus had no idea what the limits were. When she'd reached for him, he felt the flitting otter in his mind grow until it ballooned around all his thoughts and pictures and emotions and thoughts spilled out of it, too large and noisy to ignore.

He hadn't dared address it with her, not in the state she was last night, but it would need to be addressed eventually. If the bonds gave them a connection beyond a mental possession or awareness of the other's consciousness, then Severus could no longer be sure which quality was due to the bond or to the curse.

His thoughts were traveling down a dark and unwelcoming path when his classroom began to fill with snot-nosed first years. Beneath his grimace there was a certain humor, at least his frustration would not be in vain.

"Ah, Severus I was hoping I'd find you here," Minerva said lightly stepping, _uninvited_ , out of his floo.

"This is _my_ office in _my_ quarters, your powers of inference are as always, stunning."

"It seems you and a successful day, I had to calm three crying third years after their first Potions lesson of the term and the first years are still to deep in shock for tears."

If Severus smiled, he didn't let it show. "Did you come here to discuss my establishment of authority over students?"

She sat down easily in the chair across from him after transforming it into a scarlet overstuffed chair, complete with a gold embellished footrest. "Actually, I wanted to discuss Potter."

"Well that's certainly a relief, I didn't think he'd been talked about enough today."

"And exactly what this business of a student _spy_ is."

The only sign of his annoyance was the tight pinching of the bridge of his nose. "Potter is hot headed and desperately lacking in reason, he was talked down easily enough from Headmaster and is now, as I see it, a non issue. As for this student spy—"

"So there is a spy?"

"-its complete rubbish that Dumbledore fabricated to appease the boy."

"Hermione discussed it with me today. You must have told her about it, she and Potter haven't yet spoken."

He grimaced and met the Gryffindor's eyes. "There is no spy for the Dark Lord except the one you so gleefully annoy. I discussed it with Granger only so she was aware of the way Dumbledore chose to clarify what the boy saw. Surely you understand why it would be important for everyone to be on the same page."

"So there's no truth to it?"

Snape glanced down at the stack of lesson plans, noticing the blots of ink that had dripped off his quill since Minerva's entrance. "If there were a liability in the student body that I thought you should be made aware of, I would not hesitate to share it with you. As it stands, I am in no position to suggest there is anything suspect in the student body beside the customary Dark Lord connections that children of Death Eaters bring."

The sympathy in the Gryffindor's gaze was unnerving. "Those children…all those children watching their parents bow to _him_. You Slytherins have always been a trying lot but just like every vice-virtue, I think the strength of the house is never appreciated. You know—"

"Your bleeding heart might have better company elsewhere, Minerva." There was far less anger in Severus's voice than he'd hoped to posses. He lowered his gaze once more, focusing on the ink blots marring his otherwise perfect plans.

There was a pregnant pause before she continued, her voice softer now. Severus saw she'd sunk lower in her transformed seat and leveled a scrutinizing gaze on him. "There is also Miss Granger to discuss."

"What about the girl?"

"Well, she's in for one hell of a term," McGonagall said with little decorum. "Have you considered how her position to you will be used by the Dark Lord? When I heard there was a student spy, after considering your House, Miss Granger was the obvious choice."

Severus's jaw had tightened to the point of aching during the Gryffindor's talk. "The Dark Lord has not called her yet. I don't know that he ever will. But… your concerns are probably valid—"

"Well, thank you," she said with a sarcastic smirk.

"—and they should be addressed, but not until the time comes that it becomes necessary to address them. The girl has enough to handle in the meantime, Occlumency being the most important if I might add. When he does decide he wishes to exploit her, it will be necessary that she master Occlumency lest she truly become a liability."

McGonagall sighed. "She showed a gift for it, is that an indicator she will take to it quickly enough?"

Severus mulled it over, all the ink stains in his mind seemed ready to swoop in at any second, even occluding barely held back the spillage. "We must hope so. The girl has an insufferable need to succeed, with enough motivation she will force herself to take to it. If it is in time…. that we can only wait to see."

"I will speak to Miss Granger to confirm whether or not she wishes me to accompany her to lessons. Have you discussed with her the nature of your relationship?"

"Our relationship?"

McGonagall looked surprised. "Between the binding and the curse, there will be many trials to face, not even addressing the problems between the incoming confrontation. You know better than anybody that it wont be long before a war with Voldemort is unavoidable. You and Miss Granger will have too many problems to deal with from that to also deal with messy relationship conflict. You need to have it firmly situated before the confrontation begins."

"And just what are you implying by the resolution of our relationship?"

"Surely you do not think you are merely a professor and student still?"

All the wriggling thoughts covered in thorns that Severus hadn't want to release sprung forward. He didn't want to confront the changes until absolutely necessary. The girl's magic would transfer once more to him, the curse would be certain of that, and it would require a renewal of the Binding. Despite his cynicism, Severus hoped that the truth of their new thrust into the chaos of their current state would only be confronted with a necessary renewal. After Occlumency mastery, Miss Granger would be able to avoid confrontation as well…

"I see no need to discuss such things, there are far greater things to worry about, as you well know, than our _relationship_."

"Severus, past everything ive always known you to be wise, but you're disappointing me now. You don't really think your relationship to Miss Granger is that trivial. The roles you both play in the Order and in the bigger plot of the future is too great to risk over a failure to secure your relationship with each other."

"And what do you suggest, _Minerva_?" He was angry now. Lilly had once told him, quiet as an attempt to help him, that he hid behind his anger. She had never been wrong.

"You and Granger need to discuss the boundaries of your relationship. You are no longer teacher and student, nor are you necessarily colleagues. You must consider yourselves partners in whatever way you can. And should any romantic interest develop –"

" _Minerva_."

"—then you will incorporate it into your mutual understanding of partnership."

It was true in a horrible way that watered all the thorns on the thoughts in his mind. Despite all his careful calculations and masterful moves, this situation had thrust him – and the girl – deep into chaos. The only way out of it may be to come to terms with their situation and work their way out of it together. If they didn't…

Severus let the thoughts run, like allowing oneself to smart just a little too long before seeking help. If they didn't work their way out of it together, all the girl's unrestrained power would eventually be his, and she would be left a shell of a witch with – if the little known history of the curse was correct – would be fully at his disposal to control and manipulate. A puppet with him holding the strings. It might work to finish their and the Order's means for a while, but in all the darkness he'd taken part of willingly and unwillingly, he'd never known shadows as dark as those.

"How do you propose defining our relationship?"

"Well," McGonagall said, with no little smugness. "I will have to see it Granger wishes me to accompany her to lessons, but you need to talk to her alone. Together the two of you can work out the nature of your new positions and how you propose you shall work together in the future. The future will bring even more trials, you and I both know that well, and if you do not go into face them as whole and resolute as you can, chances of survival will suffer."

"I've never likened my chances of _survival_ to be great," he added drily. "As it stands, Hermione has no magical abilities of her own. Without the Binding, she will have no access to her powers. With the Binding, she shares my own magic, a magic that -" Severus shut his eyes "That I similarly bound with the Dark Lord's. She is a servant to him as I am."

The older Gryffindor looked pained. "That's something you need to discuss too. If, as you say, your chances are not great, than she will need to prepare herself for a future possibly without magic. It wont be easy or fair for her, nearly as unfair as your fate, but I don't underestimate either of your abilities to work out a solution."

The idea was daunting. A spear compared to the thorns of other thoughts. If he didn't survive the impending war, as all signs pointed to, then Granger – the insufferable, bleeding heart, strong Gryffindor – would be left outcast from the magic world. Surely her decision to fight for the future of that world would be greatly diminished if she understood she might not have a place in that future. Even the most progressive of Wizard Society was hard on muggle-borns, and a muggle-born that's lost their magic?

That is only a muggle.

Hermione found the start of classes to be the medication she needed. The blur of a new schedule and the incoming assignments left no room in her mind for thoughts of her new position. It was hard, a painful drop of salt in a wound, not writing the letter she'd written at the start of every term to her parents. She'd even sat down at her desk and got as far as touching the quill to the paper before remembering it was useless.

When Ginny found her, she was crying on top of her sheets with Crookshanks at her feet.

"'Mione?"

She sniffled. "Yes?"

Ginny squeezed onto the bed beside her. "Is it Harry? You know how he is, he gets mad but he always comes around."

"I know," Hermione realized just how little she could relate to her friends now. As much as she wanted Ginny's comfort, this was something she couldn't help her with. "It just hurts he would think that of me."

"He's never been one to think things over, if he had, he wouldn't have believed any of it. Want to hear something to cheer you up?"

She smirked. "What?"

"Its gross. Really gross. Bad snogging to the extreme."

Hermione laughed. "Its got to be really bad to help."

"Oh it is," Ginny began to recount a snogging session after sneaking one too many Firewhiskey's from her dad's cabinet with a family friend's son. By the time the story was finished, Hermione's stomach hurt from the laughter and Crookshanks had moved to find a quieter place to sleep. When Ginny left Hermione's bed for her own and the lights in the dormitory went out, Hermione began to sift through her thoughts with a detached numbness.

It was objectively horrible what she was going through, and yet, maybe it was the Gryffindor in her, she tried to count all the ways it might improve. She would be taking on new training, a skill she'd never thought she'd acquire, her classes were interesting and challenging for once, not too challenging like third ye-

The part of Hermione's mind that didn't belong to her began to scream. It shook her like an electric shock as she felt the dark cloud in her mind grow and expand, consuming all the space in her mind that didn't belong to it until all that was in her was the dark hunger.

She squeezed her eyes shut, gasps tearing through her. The darkness began to grow and take shape, shifting into an open, clouded space filled in shades of grey.

" _Severusssss."_ A dark voiced hissed.

It sent chills down her spine.

"My lord." The voice that filled her head was not her own. Professor Snape's mind had taken over her own, she was in his head. The extent of the binding became clear to her.

 _"How issss the old fool?"_

"Well on the way, my lord. It won't be long now."

"You know the plan, Severussss. You will sssset the ssstage for my arrival. Hogwartsss hasss gone on too long under hissss reign."

"Yes, my lord."

Hermione didn't understand what she was hearing. Each word fell like a pebble into a well, sinking lower and lower but never hitting the bottom of understanding.

"How do you enjoy your toy?"

A disgusted noise filled her head and she began to cry. "You can never expect anything near satisfaction from muggle borns."

"I sssse your tastesss have improved," A chilling laugh.

"Only through your wisdom, my lord."

"I want the girl here next time. Dessspite her breeding, there are othersss who are hungry for ssssome fun. You will not be ssselfish, Severussss. You'll sssshare."

"Yes, my lord."

"You'll need to train her. You know the appetitesssss here are extreme."

The slightest pause and then Professor Snape's voice answered. "She will be ready.

As the conversation progressed, Hermione's view of the space shifted from cloudy colors to a clear view of the Dark Lord's pacing form. His robes were one with the clouds, his eyes glittering with malice to rival even the consuming darkness around him.

"I do not need her for long. Her time issss running short. When the _boy_ isss brought to me, I want her to have the firssst lick at him. He will experience her betrayal… and then he will die."

"As you wish, my lord."

"That issss why you are one of my chosen few, Severussss. You keep me pleasssed."

"Your will is all I serve."

Hermione's thoughts were Professor Snape's thoughts, and they were blank and obedient. A pain, cold and biting, tore deep into a part of her she didn't think would ever heal.

"That isss all for now, Serverussss. I will call on you sssoon and we will ssssee how well you have broken in the abomination of a girl."

The view shifted as her professor bowed. "Yes, my lord."

As quickly as the darkness had taken her mind, it left.

The top of her bed curtains were cast in a blue grey from the small moonlight pouring in through the window. It took her long minutes to catch her breath, minutes filled with no thoughts of her own but fear and pain.

When she felt her mind as her own once more, she bolted up in the bed. She had been wrong. They'd all been wrong. So totally and unequivocably wrong.

Professor Snape was not on their side.

He was not playing the part of the spy for them.

He was the enemy.

She left the dorm in the uniform she'd climbed into bed with and ran with a blind determination to warn the Headmaster. She ran through the halls, feeling rather than seeing them whip by around her, until she ran into the dark figure blocking her path.

Hermione felt the impact against her whole body and landed on the floor with a flash of pain as the air escaped her. She couldn't breath to release the scream that welled inside her as Professor Snape, the conniving snake himself, bore his gaze down on her.

 **Thank you for reading, please leave a review!**


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